


The Werewolf and the Twin

by kigle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I'm so sorry, It wasn't supposed to be this long!, This is un-beta'ed by the way, What am I doing with my life?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 85,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kigle/pseuds/kigle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariel Vanderwik, an exchange student from America, comes to Hogwarts and finds herself hard pressed to keep her secret from the people whom she comes to love most. Crushing on Fred Weasley won't make that any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Act of Transferring

I've never been exactly normal; in fact, I'm pretty weird, I'll admit. Even in the wizarding world I was weird, and trust me, if you know anything about the wizarding world, you'll know that's quite an achievement. I'm not saying that I was like completely off kilter, it was just that little things about me added up. Like the way my mother was half veela, or how I was part werewolf. It was an odd mix, one that I didn't even fully understand.  
  
Normally, you can't be 'part' werewolf if you were bitten, but the Healers of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries said that something must have happened when the venom met my veela blood, causing unanticipated effects. That my hair changed color the night of the full moon, how my senses where heightened, or even how I changed; which ended up being only half way so I was stuck somewhere between human and werewolf. The act of the change is the most painful part of being a werewolf and I had to be stuck half way through it for a whole night.  
  
It was like Crucio but worse.  
  
Even after having the condition since I was 10, I hadn't gotten used to it. It haunted me wherever I went and ended up getting me expelled from my own school. Some kid a few years younger than me walked into the room I had for my changes and saw me half way through one. He ended up ratting me out and the school board thought it was best if I was removed from the premise on the accusation that I was a danger to my fellow school body. They didn't realize that I was terrified of hurting another person because I couldn't control myself.  
  
Not that I could do much damage when I was halfway through the change and blinded by the pain inflicted. I have had, I'll admit, an occasion or two where I attacked someone because they walked in when I had mastered a bit of my pain from the change. My half-wolf mind had apparently thought they were dangerous and one thing led to another... and well, it just wasn't pretty. I had gotten better at the precautions I took before I changed. True my last school's precautions weren't that fabulous but they kept me safe for at least a little while. It had made it half way through the school year before the kid fibbed.  
  
I had been scared about what to do at that point, seeing as I had no parents, guardians, and desperately didn't want to go back to the adoption center. It wasn't like I was going to get adopted anyways... Luckily, I didn't have to go back.  
  
It had been right as I was sitting on my trunks in front of my school gates, considering my bleak and very limited options that he had Apparated right in front of me with a kind smile, twinkling eyes, and introduced himself as Dumbledore.  
  
He told me that he knew that I had been expelled and was offering that I go to the school where he was Headmaster. A school named Hogwarts in London. Now seeing that I was all the way over in Oregon for my school, I was slightly confounded that I was being asked to go to a school roughly 5,000 miles away, on top of which being asked to go to a school being what I was.  
  
“Don't you know what I am?” I had asked, looking at the cracked pavement beneath my light combat boots. I never had liked the clunky ones but went for nice, thinner soled ones, being only around half an inch rather than the full inch. They also weren't black but a reddish-brown. Like redwood.  
  
He just laughed kindly, his eyes twinkling very adoring-grandfather like. He told me that it didn't matter what I was and that he understood what I was going through. He said he was going to sort everything out and as long as I wanted to go to Hogwarts and learn, that I was welcome. So of course, being the closed shell person I am, I promptly burst into tears and threw my arms around his waist (since that's all I could reach since he was very tall) and balled my eyes out.  
  
I never liked knowing that I was a danger to people. I never liked having people shy away from me in fear or discriminate against me because of what I was. What hurt most, I think, was that I couldn't make friends. I was always too scared that I was going to hurt them, and even when I did make friends, my... condition scared them off. The girl I had as my best friend at this year before I got expelled, wouldn't look me in the eye when she found out and ended up telling me that she would be better off if we didn't talk.  
  
It ended up changing me a lot until it took a great amount of coaxing for me to get comfortable enough at a school and associate normally. And as scared and uncomfortable as I would be to start a new school, I knew it would be for the better. I wouldn't have to go to that blasted orphanage anymore, I wouldn't have to scavenge for a place to change each month, I would be fed properly. The Pro's outweighed the Con's in this situation.  
  
After my sobbing fit had stopped, during which Dumbledore patted me on the back shushing me comfortingly, I was able to gain control of my emotions, step back, and formally accept his invitation. He nodded and zapped away my luggage before telling me that we were heading to a place called Diagon Alley for all my supplies.  
  
Money, wasn't a problem for me. My parents had left a sizable sum that I could dip into when needed. I never did though, even when I was living in the orphanage since I didn't want the people there hating me more than necessary. When we got to Diagon Alley after he Apparated us-a sensation that did it's toll on my heightened senses-we quickly set about finding all my supplies. My last school hadn't needed much since everything we needed was already there so I ended up needing to buy a lot.  
  
He kept polite conversation with me while we bought all my necessaries after I had pulled out some money from Gringott's, the wizarding bank there. I ended up getting a lot of cool stuff that made my excited to start school there. I already knew that it was going to be a lot better than my last one.  
  
There was a slight mis-hap when getting the owl I was supposed to have. The moment I walked into Eeylops Owl Emporium, all the owls went nuts and started flapping and squawking so I quickly left with a chuckling Dumbledore behind me saying that I apparently should not have an owl but a different type of mail carrier so we headed to Magical Menageire, another magical animal shop. The animals there didn't flip out when I walked in but shied away like I was going to eat them. I'll admit, it depressed me a little. Until what looked to be a cross between a Red-Tailed Hawk and a Rough-Legged Hawk, glided gently towards me and landed on the stand next to me, nipping my arm in greetings. I immediately bought him and named him Reggie.  
  
There wasn't any most incidents while I bought my stuff and Dumbledore waited patiently and after a while, I was laden with bags and ready to go. So we went to a place The Hog's Head, and used Floo Powder to send us to Hogwarts.  
  
Let me tell you, it was amazing. Sure, I was only in the Headmaster's Office but I could tell my the room that Hogwarts was a castle and it was magical. I could see through the window a great, dark lake that had a tentacle waving merrily towards me before slipping underneath the water again quietly. The dark and depressing happenings at my old school listed slightly from my chest already.  
  
When Dumbledore came through the fireplace, he said I would need to be “Sorted”. Apparently, Hogwarts had four groups that divided the students within the school. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. He pulled down a ragged and patched hat from atop a glass cabinet and motioned for me to sit down on one of the plush chairs in front of is desk. When he placed it atop my head, I heard a seem rip and heard a voice come from the hat.  
  
“Well, aren't you a mixed one? Werewolf and veela.” it had said and I didn't know whether to be insulted or embarrassed. I was certainly astounded though. I could feel it shuffling through my mind, picking at different memories and thoughts. It was a bit unnerving to be honest.  
  
“Hmmmm,” it had said again, “Dumbledore, I think she would do fantastic in Gryffindor.” I saw Dumbledore smile and tell the hat that he had thought the same thing. After plucking the hat off my head and returning it to it's place on top of the cabinet, he zapped away my merchandise and told me to follow him, at which point he opened the office door and strode out. I quickly followed him and lead us finally to the present.  
  
“You'll be a fifth year here.” said Dumbledore as he lead us through a maze of corridors, all of which were tall ceilinged and magnificent. I nodded and tried to keep pace.  
  
“Right now, it's breakfast hour so I'm taking you to the Grand Hall where all the other students are currently chomping away. I'll have the fifth year Gryffindor prefect, a kind of honor student, take you up to the Gryffindor Chambers where you will find all your belongings, schedule, and map. You should be able to find you're way from there.” he said, winking, and I chuckled a bit.  
  
He stopped us in front of a massive set of doors and with a swish of his wand, pulled them open, showing us a scene of hundreds of kids that were merrily eating their breakfast before hearing the doors open and swiveling their heads towards us. And I do mean, every single kid. Before the doors had opened I could hear the others talking and laughing but when the doors opened to reveal Dumbledore and I, a silent hush had descended upon us.  
  
Many of the male students had their mouths open at the site of me and I internally grimaced. Being part-veela gave me unnatural beauty and to tell you the truth, it kinda sucked. Sure being a bit pretty had it's advantages but for the most part it was a nuisance since it brought people forward when I desperately wanted them at a safe distance. Beauty and being a werewolf don't mix very well to the person they're inflicted on.  
  
Dumbledore, apparently oblivious to the stares and awkward silence, strode forward, his eyes scanning a red and gold clad table to my right. There were four long tables that took up the length of the hall with each group of kids sitting there sporting different colors. Apparently, Gryffindor had red and gold and I took comfort in the fact that red was my favorite color. Little things like that helped me not panic.  
  
He stopped by a bushy, brown haired girl with chocolate eyes sitting by a boy with black, unruly hair and green eyes, and a boy with a shock of red hair and blue eyes above a spray of freckles. The boy with the black hair had a curious lightning bolt shaped mark on his forehead.  
  
“Ms. Granger, this is Ariel Vanderwik, a transfer from a wizarding school in America, I'd like for you to show her to the common room after lunch and help her get settled and explain to her the procedure, if you don't mind.” Dumbleore said, putting a hand on my shoulder.  
  
“Not at all Professor.” she said and smiled kindly at me, before scooting over to make room for me on her left. I smiled sheepishly at her, glanced at the Professor who nodded and started walking towards a long table at the end of the Hall where a group of adults sat, that I assumed were the teachers. By now, conversation had started again in the hall but I still felt a lot of stares on me so I sat down quickly. I was still getting stares from up and down the table but luckily I had blocked most of the stares in the hall.  
  
“So,” said the brown haired girl, “I'm Hermione Granger, That's Ronald Weasley,” she pointed to the boy with red hair, “and that's Harry Potter, as if you don't already know...” pointing at the boy with black hair and lightning bolt shaped scar. I had heard of a boy named Harry Potter who apparently had survived a Killing Curse from Voldemort so I just nodded politely and said a quick, “Hello.”  
  
“So, what's it like in America, Ariel?” Hermione asked, looking a bit awkward while she searched for a conversation topic. I tried to keep my reply short yet polite.  
  
“It's nice. Not unlike England, though I haven't seen much of it.” I said, shrugging my shoulders and staring at the dark brown table. I glanced up and saw them staring at my mouth very avidly.  
  
“What?” I said, a bit confused. Hermione was the first to recover.  
  
“It's just your accent. It's a bit, weird.” I couldn't help but grin a bit in the irony.  
  
“Well, your guys' is weird to me too.” They grinned and when I realized that I was associating too much for my comfort, turned my head back to the table and proceeded to answer their questions quickly and quietly. They mostly asked what my old school was like, what subject I liked best, what I was worst at, then proceeded to tell me about the staff and students.  
  
“That's Snape,” said Harry with obvious distaste, “he teaches Potions and is head of the Slytherin house.” Snape had a large hook nose and greasy black hair and I could already tell that I wouldn't like him. Harry was half way through telling me about Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration teacher when Ron, whom had been staring at my face for a good time now, cut him off.  
  
“What's wrong with you're eyes?” he said, at which point Hermione exclaimed and swatted him on the arm for his rudeness but I could tell by the way she glanced at me from the corner of her eye, that she wanted to know to. Everybody always did.  
  
The change in them happened after my first full moon. They had been a nice blue before that night but when I woke up the morning after, they had changed to a vivid topaz, an unnatural color. They weren't the yellowy-hazel that some people had; it was a literal topaz, like the color of a yellow topaz with a light shined through it.  
  
“Er-” I was saved from thinking up a lie when a bell rang through the hall. Hermione instantly jumped up and told me that we needed to get going. I waved a non-committal good-bye to Harry and Ron and hustled after her. All the students in the Hall still seemed interested in me, because as I walked through the group, I saw people pointing and whispering. I didn't look that different, okay?  
  
I was thankful to get out of the mass of people and follow Hermione up a set of stairs while she talked away about the school.  
  
Sometime during her monologue which I was half paying attention to, I didn't notice her take a small hop and take two steps at a time. I, unfortunately, didn't and felt my leg swish through the stair while Hermione rambled on about the ghosts in the school. My yelp of surprise alerted her to my mis-hap.  
  
Turning, she saw that I was almost halfway through the stair and gave a gasp.  
  
“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I forgot to tell you about that trick step! I didn't mean to! Are you hurt? Are you okay? Well of course you're not okay. You're stuck in a step.” I noticed that while she talked, she was so caught up in the fact that she didn't warn me, that she made no move to help me get out. Before I could ask her to help, I felt two pairs of hands grip me under my arms and lift me clear of the step.  
  
I turned around and saw identical twins with a shock of red hair. They wore Gryffindor colors and I had the distinct impression that they were in fact related to Ron. After I took in their alikeness then and deduced that they were related to said Ron Weasley, I began to notice subtle differences about the two.  
  
For example, the one on the left, had darker blue eyes than the one on the right, and had a stray freckle underneath his right eye in the exact middle. Other than that, all the other freckles seemed to match up exactly with his brothers. For some reason, the twin on the left, the one with the darker blue eyes, drew my attention more than the other.  
  
“Thanks guys.” Hermione said from behind me as I stared at the twins. I nodded and turned to follow her when I heard her foot steps start up the stairs again. Weirdly, I felt each of their arms grab mine and link them like we were about to walk into a prestigious event.  
  
“He's George.” said the one on my right, the one with the bluer eyes and rouge freckle.  
  
“He's Fred.” said George to my left. Again, I noticed a subtle difference between them; Fred's voice was a half degree deeper than Georges and I had a faint impression that if it wasn't for my heightened senses that I wouldn't have been able to tell.  
  
“We're Forge, or Gred; whichever one you like best.” They said together and winked exactly at the same time. I was slightly taken back but felt a small smile creep onto my face.  
  
“I'm-”  
  
“Ariel Vanderwick-” George stated, surprising me.  
  
“We know.” finished Fred. For some reason, this made my grin a degree bigger. I liked these guys, even though they had said four sentences to me. I was glad that I was in their House, because that would make settling in that much easier and make me feel that much more comfortable.  
  
“Honestly, don't you have classes to get to?” Hermione said, hands on her hips, staring at the twins, when she had stopped in front of a large picture with an even larger lady dressed in a pink dress.  
  
“Well we had to make ourselves known, 'Mione.” Fred grinned.  
  
“Yeah, everybody needs to be associated with us!” George said in a tone that implied that Hermione should know this. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the portrait.  
  
“Password?” the lady said.  
  
“Gillyweed.” The portrait swung open to reveal a cozy, warm room with plush rugs and a roaring fire. I instantly liked it.  
  
“This is where we part ways, fair maiden.” George said, grasping my hand and holding it to his cheek. Fred did the same with the other and as if they choreographed it, pulled back and kissed my hand. I couldn't withhold a giggle. They grinned cheekily before winking and walking away.  
  
“Sorry about them,” grumbled Hermione, “The Weasley Twins are a pain sometimes. Especially since they've gotten into the habit of selling their merchandise.” I just nodded and followed her up a set of spiral stares and into a round room with six beds. I instantly saw my trunk and other items on one of them with a note laying on the bed.  
  
I got to work organizing everything. I put my trunk in front of my bed like everybody else and took out a bag I had bought for all my supplies. It was a shoulder bag that was black leather and was able to fit all my necessities- quills, ink, parchment, books, etc- I then, pulled out a school uniform and began dressing down, when I heard Hermione's gasp of surprise.  
  
I had forgotten. The scar... It was a gruesome sight. A set of three parallel lines that stretched from just under my shoulder blades to my lower back, with a short fourth line that didn't complete the whole distance. It was smooth since so many years had passed and still several tones paler than my skin. Quickly slipping on the shirt, I glanced back at her and saw her staring determinedly at the floor.  
  
I quickly finished dressing; keeping my boots on and robe off. It was already a little toasty. Remembering the note on the bed, I grabbed it and quickly read:  
  
 _Miss Vanderwick,_  
  
Your classes have been sorted and you'll find your schedule on the sheet proceeding this. Your hawk (Reggie I believe you named it?) has been put into the Owlry so don't worry about him. A map has been put on the back of this sheet so keep it with you. Regarding you're monthly happenings, I wish for you to meet me at my office after your last class of the day.  
  
Hoping you'll like it here,  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
I put the letter into my bag, slipped it around my shoulders and turned towards Hermione.  
  
“I'm ready.” was all I said. She nodded, apparently at a lost for words. She opened her mouth as if going to speak but apparently thought better of it, and motioned for me to follow her.  
  
My first class at Hogwarts coming right up.


	2. The Act of Accepting

I've always had a problem with new schools. Starting classes with people who already knew each other put pressure on me because I still had to figure out who everybody was. I didn't have a summer full of letters from far away friends talking about crushes or vacations or anything. I don't get to have a background where everybody knows who I am because of years of knowing me to fall back on. I had 'The New Girl' status; and it's hard to cope with.  
  
Being half-veela already brought me enough stares; I don't need another purpose for them to stare at me with. Being a new girl only brought me more irritation, which I completely didn't need. I don't just want to sit here and complain though, I should be grateful. Dumbledore took me in even when he knew of what I was. I couldn't thank him enough but here I am, wallowing in my complaints that are totally shallow. So what if people stared at me? I was prepared to deal with that.  
  
My first class of the day was Transfiguration with Hermione and Harry and Ron and all the other fifth year Gryffindors. The Hufflepuffs were also paired with them too. Apparently, Hermione was still a bit off kilter about the whole scar-thing and I was grateful that she hadn't asked. I didn't like talking about it and coming up with a lie is a pain. So I was content to follow her in silence.  
  
I was still in shock about how amazing the castle that was Hogwarts was. It was already way better than my old school and I hadn't even been to class yet. I wasn't nervous about classes. I was confident in my abilities and knowledge seeing as all I had to do in my free time was read books or something. Not having friends does wonders for your test scores.  
  
What I was nervous about though, was the associating. Becoming a werewolf at such an early age had caused me to fall away from people when I should have been developing the conversation skills. Even though I was enough of a friendly person that even werewolfdom wasn't able to skill, I still had trouble talking to people. Partly because I was awkward with it but mostly, I was still afraid to get close to people when I could hurt them so easily. So I couldn't blame my self-inflicted wall-flower status all on my social capability.  
  
Even though I was prepared for the stares and whispers and everything, now that I couldn't hide at the breakfast table, it still rattled me a little bit when I got to class. It was like all the air had suddenly been filled with molasses and I had trouble keeping my legs from shaking as I walked to the only open desk at the front of the class; Hermione was heading over to the one by Harry and Ron. It was like each individual stare was boring into the back of my skull in contemplation and curiosity. To say I was uncomfortable was a completely understatement.  
  
“Sorry Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore had me help Ariel with getting settled after lunch.” Hermione said as we both sat down, her by Harry and Ron; me in the front of the class all alone. Everybody had a sparrow in front of them and seemed to have been trying to transfigure it into a book.  
  
“I am aware, Miss Granger. Miss Vanderwik, if you'll please open your book to 178 and start working on the incantation, that would do nicely.” Professor McGonagall said, glancing up from her desk for second to watch as I opened the book and took a look at the spell.  
  
“Professor,” I said meekly, trying not to draw attention to myself, “it seems that I already know that spell...” It was like everybody had stopped breathing and was waiting for McGonagall to say something. She raised her head to look up at me and stare at me with close scrutiny. I felt a bit pink but stared back levelly. I had never been one to pale under scrutinizing or intimidation.  
  
“Show me.” she said finally. I took out my wand and watched the sparrow on my desk, gazing at me with beady dark eyes.  
  
“Book volcuri.” I murmured and tapped the cage with my wand. The bird, shrunk and flattened out into a book that was titled the Anatomy of Sparrows. I heard the class take a small breath and looked back up to Professor McGonagall. She was staring with thinly pressed lips and seemed to be contemplating something. I of course just sat there and stared back until the Professor opened her mouth to speak again.  
  
“Congratulations. You have indeed mastered the spell. You have the rest of the period to yourself but try not to make a to big of a disruption.”she nodded once, as if satisfied by the verdict before again, returning to her book. I didn't know what to do exactly.  
  
The classroom seemed to reflect the Professor, I deduced. It was orderly and not too extravagant. There were a number of bookcases that were filled cleanly and straight. Looking at the books, I felt a grin of pleasure on my face. I had always loved books and reading, even before I started shunning away people.  
  
As I sat pondering this, a paper air plane found its way onto my desk. Before I had even opened it, I stopped to admire the workmanship of the plane. It was crispy folded and symmetrical, giving the impression that whoever sent it over had done it once or twice before. After I had gotten done with the examination, I opened it up and laughed a little by what I saw.  
  
It was a crude, and when I say crude I meant it completely and utterly, drawing of me, head enlarged, with “Know-It-All” stamped across my forehead while I danced atop Professor McGonagall's desk. The picture made me laugh and I made the mistake of doing it loud enough that the Professor heard me.  
  
“You find something humorous, Miss Vanderwik?” Professor McGonagall had a thin eyebrow raised with equally thin lips pinched uncomfortably. I smiled politely,  
  
“Actually, I do but I'm sorry that I disrupted class. It won't happen again.” I amended. I didn't want to be on her bad side so being humble and polite was my best bet, I figured. She looked slightly taken back but just ended up nodding and returning to her book. Looking back to the drawing, I brought it closer at my face as if looking closer when actually I was smelling it. Having heightened senses I could detect and focus on individual scents when needed. This scent was a bit sickly.  
  
It was a mixture of bubblegum, cotton-candy and cough syrup? Something that would cause me a severe case of nausea if I had to smell it for long. So I took the paper away from my face, closed my eyes and focused on the scent. I could identify it, floating around the room in a near visible haze through my nose. Opening my eyes, my eyes followed what my nose pointed out and my gaze landed on a girl form Hufflepuff who was seemingly hard at work but I knew better; I could see her looking at me from the corner of her eye. Sending a wink and a waggle of my fingers, I smirked inwardly.  
  
Did she really think that was going to get to me? Hardly. I've gone through much worse ridicule than a little drawing. Being a werewolf gave you thick skin for ridicule. It was a bit unnerving though that I had already made an enemy in the first class, but I just had to brush it off. I had to keep a clear mind for right now and get everything settled before I started worrying about stupid girls.  
  
I sat patiently for the end of class which was 58 minutes and 12 seconds after the whole note incident. Hearing a bell type noise echo through the room, I gathered my stuff and pulled out the map. A room in the dungeons was glowing signaling my 2nd class which was Potions apparently. I vaguely remembered Harry saying something about how Professor Snape taught it and also remembered my first assumptions of Snape so I didn't really look forward to the class. Potions has never been my favorite class anyway....  
  
So, with no real excitement towards my next class, I set off towards the dungeon, consulting my map every few turns. After a while, I ended up at the bottom of a stairway looking at a dark hallway which I guessed was the start of the dungeon. I felt a chill settle on my skin and had a distinct feeling that I was not going to enjoy this.  
  
A few Gryffindor students walked past me in a group so I followed a bit behind them, guessing that they were off to Potions also; they seemed to know where they were going. They ended up in front of a scarred and thick, dark wood door that had almost black tendrils of foreboding emitting from it.  
  
I inwardly groaned.  
  
After they had heaved the door open, I got a glimpse into a dark classroom, lit by a few torches. Shelves of multi-colored jars lined the walls and there were rows of desks with two students a piece to them. I saw the red and gold of Gryffindors and the green and silver of Slytherins. Most of the students were already at a desk with their cauldrons out and at the ready. I was at a lose of what to do; I mean, I didn't know if we had preassigned seats or anything and everybody looked as if they didn't want the new girl sitting with them. I recognized Hermione, Harry, and Ron though, who all gave me a smile.  
  
“Students, sit down and be quiet.” An oily voice slithered out of the door at the far end of the classroom. It gave the impression of goo sliding down my spine or nails on a chalk-board but either way, the voice dashed away all of the minuscule hopes that I would have actually liked the teacher. The oily head of Snape appeared out of it and took in the room, stopping once he saw me, standing at the door, clutching the strap of my bag.  
  
“Ahh, the new student. Obviously, you aren't smart enough to figure out that you were supposed to sit down so I'll try to explain it in the basic of terms. Sit. Down. On. Chair.” Snape raised an eyebrow and smirked casually. I just glared for a moment before glancing at the tables, irritation bubbling in my chest.  
  
Everybody was looking at me; all the Slytherins had smirks and evil grins on their faces and I automatically knew that they were not going to be particularly accommodating. Unfortunately, the only open seat was in the Slytherins half of the room, next to a platinum blond haired boy who wore the nastiest smirk of the lot. I found my way to it, side-stepping an out-stretched leg, dodging a paper ball that was quickly preceded by a paper-airplane before sitting carefully down on the stool next to the boy.  
  
“Good. At least you can understand simple directions,” sneering, Snape turned towards the board and waved his wand, “Onto the lesson, you will be making a minor Forgetful potion that can be used to cause a blackout of the 12 hours before ingestion. The instructions are on the board, you will find all necessary ingredients in the cupboard as always and you will work with the person seated next to you. Go.”  
  
As Snape slimed (there was really no other way to describe it) back to his desk, the boy next to me scoffed and twisted over to face me.  
  
“Draco Malfoy as you no doubt have heard.” he said oh-so pompously. I resisted the urge to smack him one. He'd said all of 10 words to me and I already knew that we were not going to be friends.  
  
“Can't say I have.” I replied, listing down the ingredients from the board. Tail of rat, tears of snake, etc. Not exactly happy stuff.  
  
“Curb your tongue. What are you then? Friends of the Mudblood and Potty?” Draco sneered. I had whirled my face towards him when I heard him use the term “Mudblood” and instantly felt my hand twitch as though warning me it was past time to put distance away from him before I kicked the crap outta him. I didn't even know who he was insulting but I didn't care; there is no excuse to use that term. Fortunately, my caution for not getting in too much trouble the first day settled my thoughts so I just got up without a word, grabbed the cauldron and list of ingredients before walking to the cupboard.  
  
“Hey! I'm talking to you!” I heard Draco exclaim in indignation. I just rolled my eyes before rifling through the shelves for all the needed items. Placing them in the cauldron so I didn't have to juggle them on the way back, I tried to spend as much time as possible so I didn't have to go back there...  
  
Yet, I knew I had to get the potion done so with a heavy heart and itching hand, I trudged back to the table where Draco had a group of Slytherins laughing loudly at something that I had the inkling that was at my expense.  
  
“Finally back? I was beginning to think you couldn't read or something. Considering that you're friends with the Blood-Traitor it doesn't surprise me.” The other students around him all laughed too loud and obnoxiously, making me bite my lip at the urge to retaliate. I simply sat down without a word and took out all the ingrediants from the cauldron, setting them in a neat row. Starting the fire underneath the cauldron, I took note of the instructions and brought out a cutting board, knife, and began preparing the ingrediants.  
  
Draco seemed annoyed about my lack of fight and set about making the comments worse, egging me into action.  
  
“Maybe we're just using too large of words for her,” sniped Draco, sending me glances out of the corner of his eye while he talked to the ever larger group. I felt my eyebrow twitch and bit my lip harder, set on not reacting. It would only lead to me in trouble.  
  
“Probably shouldn't let her make the potion, Draco. She might hurt you when she blows it up.” sneered a black haired girl with a pig nose. I took a deep breath, counted to ten, then resumed making the potion. I hadn't known these people for all of 15 minutes and I already felt the urge to hex them all into oblivion. I knew I could do it too; hexes and jinxes were my specialty.  
  
“You're right, Pansy. If she is anything Longbottom then we'd better run. I'm way to important to die because some git from Gryffindor can't make a simple potion.” Draco said again, raising his voice even louder than it already was, making kids on the Gryffindor side of the room look over with dirty looks.  
  
“I heard that Dumbledore found her in a dirty alley and felt bad for her so he sent her here. I knew Dumbledore was a lark but I never took him for being a complete loon.” Draco tried again.  
  
“Hey! Don'-” Harry started but by then I had shot up from my seat and sent my fist flying towards Draco's face, landing with a crunch. He tumbled from his seat with a cry, hands finding their way to his bloodied face. I was literally shaking with rage, hands balled at my sides, ready to strike again. The room had gone deathly silent which was never a good sign.  
  
I owed Dumbledore everything. He'd brought me in knowing what I was, gave me a place to stay, food, shelter, and was going to help me with my condition yet this bastard was sitting there, blatantly insulting him in front of me? I couldn't stand it.  
  
“Don't  _ever_  say shit about Dumbledore in front of me again,” my voice wavered slightly at the restraint I was going through to not pounce on him and beat him to a pulp. I felt a hand on my shoulder and knew automatically that it was Snape from the oily smell that wafted towards me.  
  
“Fighting on the first day? Tsk tsk.” he said from behind me, his grip turning vice like, “20 points from Gryffindor and detention Friday at eight.” He yanked me backwards and I just just enough time to grab my bag other items before I was pulled from the room and told to stand outside the doorway until class was over. The door slammed shut and I slid down the wall, head between my knees.  
  
Fighting on the first day? I should be ashamed but for some reason, I felt strangely pleased with myself. I knew that Draco had been causing crap long before I got here, I was intuitive enough to figure that out, so I knew he deserved every amount of pain I had induced. Just as I was finished that savagely pleased thought, I heard the door open and Draco shuffle out with Pansy locked onto his arm. His face was a red mass and he was whimpering like a baby.  
  
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud from the sight. Pansy shot me a look that clearly wished me an early death but I just grinned back and waved at them as they walked away.  
  
Yup, I was definitely glad I punched him. All I had to do now was wait until class was over before I could go to lunch. I remembered that much from my schedule.  
  
The minutes went by immensely slow and so I kept myself occupied by doodling on a stray piece of parchment. I had just finished the last touches on the moon by the time I heard the bell noise sound again, so I stuffed the parchment into my bag and stood up, making my way out of the Dungeon. I heard multiple set of steps racing from behind me.  
  
“You just punched Draco Malfoy on your first day here!”  
  
“That was brilliant! The git totally deserved it!”  
  
“Remind me not to get on your bad side; your punch was wicked.” Harry and Ron spoke on top of each other while Hermione just grinned widely and linked her arm with mine while I stared at them all bewilderedly. I had known he was an ass just from that one confrontation but I hadn't realized that the three hated him that much. Instant acceptance from them apparently, all for punching some guy? Man, fitting in here would be easier than I thought. My nervousness about getting along here and making friends was all gone.  
  
“Are you just who he was talking about before? Potty, the Blood-Traitor, and...” I trailed off, not wanting to say the extremely offensive term. I grew angry just thinking about it. Seeing Hermione wince, I knew that it was true and my anger for Malfoy grew. These three had been nothing but kind to me since I got here and had accepted me... Even though they didn't know my secret.  
  
“I'm sorry for what he said. I didn't know he was talking about you. I would've punched him a lot sooner if I had. There's no excuse to use that term.” I said as we walked out of the Dungeon.  
  
“It's okay, Ariel. We can handle ourselves. Thanks for sticking up for Dumbledore though.” Harry said, as he and Ron put their arms across mine and Hermione's shoulders. The movement made me smile. These guys liked me.  
  
“I owe him.” I stated simply, not wanting to go any further into it. They led me to the Great Hall where all the other students had seemed to converge. A cheer rose up from the Gryffindor table as we walked in as the other kids stood up and started clapping. Hermione giggled and raised my arm as if I had just won a boxing match. The cheer grew louder.  
  
The group pulled me towards the table and on the way, I had to stop to high-five some of the Gryffindors who had stuck out their hand and grinned. News apparently traveled insanely fast here. Hermione pushed me down into a seat and settled in to my left while Ron settled to my right and Harry across from us. A kid with a round face and dark hair smiled from Harry's side and I returned it, feeling better than I had in years.  
  
“I'm Neville Longbottom.” he said and I remembered the name from when Draco mentioned it.  
  
“I'm sorry Malfoy said that about you. I'm sure you're not that bad.” Neville just grinned sheepishly and nodded before ducking his head. Ron and Harry chuckled before gathering food onto their plates. Hermione was holding a conversation with a ginger haired girl who looked remarkably like Ron. She was probably his sister. Younger by the looks of it.  
  
“This is Ginny Weasley.” Hermione introduced after she noticed me looking at her.  
  
The girl, Ginny, smiled widely at me and I couldn't help but smile back. It was infectious.  
  
“Congrats on socking Malfoy. Everybody here wants to but I don't think any one has done it on their first day of school. I hear it was a good punch too.” laughed Ginny, still grinning widely. I just ducked my head and grinned at my empty plate. I didn't really feel hungry so I simply grabbed an apple from the plate to my right. Harry and Ron were already digging into their food like it was going out of style.  
  
Lunch wasn't long and I spent the time talking to Hermione and Harry and Ron about the various classes and what-not before the bell rang and it was time for my next class. Apparently, most of the 5th years schedules were the same so I just stuck with the trio while they took me to Charms class. I was excited for this class. Spellwork had always been my forte; specifically hexes and jinxes but charms was a close second.  
  
The class was easy, as I had already learned the spells he taught since I had done so much studying. I spent the time helping Harry and Ron; Hermione had already mastered it five minutes into class. I was sad when the bell rang since I liked Charms so far. Professor Flitwick was chill but for how ever much I liked Charms I was still insanely excited for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Learning defensive spells was seriously fun to me.  
  
For some reason, Hermione and Harry and Ron all grew strangely irritable as we went to the class. Once we got there and got settled, I understood why. The teacher, Professor Umbridge, a sickly pink and toad-like, was completely insane. Her smile was dangerously sweet and her small eyes darted around. Her smell slammed into me and I nearly threw up. Even though I held it in, I felt dizzy and sick and all around not okay. I managed to collapse into a seat next to Hermione while Harry and Ron sat behind us.  
  
“Good afternoon class, I see we have a new student,” the Professor giggled a high pitch, completely fake laugh and I felt the urge to slap her, “I'm sure she wouldn't object to saying a few words about herself.”  
  
“I would.” I said, staring blankly at her. I heard Ron and Harry snicker behind me and had to fight to keep my mouth a straight line. Umbridge narrowed her gaze and her smile became a bit more strained but none-the-less kept in on her face.  
  
“Careful Miss Vanderwik, wouldn't want detention on your first day here.” she waggled her finger at me like she was reprimanding a child. I almost raised an eyebrow in disbelief yet refrained from doing so.  
  
The class was complete crap. We didn't even do any spells which I had been dying to do all day. All we did was copy notes from a book and by the time class was over, my hand was cramping. It was a complete let down and I was very peeved. The second the bell rang, I was out of the class room, ranting about how that class was totally and utterly crap. When I had whirled around, my long black hair flying, I had caught the tail end of Hermione sending a knowing look with a small smile towards Ron and Harry.  
  
“Hey! Don't give them that 'look'!” I said indignant. She just laughed and we made our way to the common room. I had just stepped in the portal to the common room when I remembered that I was supposed to meet Dumbledore after class so I excused myself, consulted my map, and started on on my way.  
  
Along the corridor, Fred and George appeared in front of me with wide grins on their faces. Without a word, they stepped towards me and enveloped me in a hug. Fred was slightly in more in front of me and I watched his Adam's Apple bob as he swallowed. He smelled nice and his scent was easy on my sensitive nose.  
  
He smelled like apples and cinnamon and pine. A weird combination but strangely addictive. George smelled more along the lines of clove and pumpkin. After they pulled away I had started to ask why they did that but they had beat me to it.  
  
“You're our new favorite person, Ace.” said Fred while George nodded.  
  
“Socking Malfoy like that? You've earned yourself a place in the Weasley Twins Hall of Love. Even we haven't punched him yet. We prefer more-”  
  
“subtle tactics.” Fred finished.  
  
“And George here-” started George but I cut him off.  
  
“No,” I said, sending a look at them, “you're George. He's Fred.” I nodded at the other twin. They both looked shocked.  
  
“What?” I asked, crinkling my nose in confusion.  
  
“Our mum can't even tell us apart. Bloody hell,-”  
  
“How'd you know? We were planning on testing you just for fun but we never expected you to actually know.” said George, astounded.  
  
I scoffed and and rolled my eyes, “Easy, Fred has darker blue eyes and a rouge freckle under the middle of his right eye. George, you have a higher voice but only by a fraction of a degree.” They both had their mouths open and were staring at me in amazement. I began to feel a bit uncomfortable... I have them a sheepish smile.  
  
“Well? Say something. This whole 'not-talking' thing is kinda awkward...” Giving them an unsure look, I was at a lost at what to do. They glanced at each other and seemed to be talking with their eyes. Alrighty then...  
  
“Hey, I gotta go see Professor Dumbledore now. So I'll er, talk to you later...” Scurrying around them, I hurried towards where my map was glowing, ending up in front of a Griffin statue. My letter started growing warm and looking at it, I saw that chocolate frogs had appeared at the bottom of the map.  
  
“Er- Chocolate frogs?” I said and at the mention of the amazing candy, the Griffin jumped aside showing a winding staircase. I climbed the steps and found myself at a wooden doorway. Just as I raised my fist to knock, I heard Dumbledore invite me in so I opened the door and stepped in leisurely.  
  
I remembered the office vividly. All the shiny silver objects and the window to the lake. There was also a phoenix on a stand by his desk and as if magnetized, I was drawn towards it. The beautiful gold and crimson plumage. The sleek elongated feathers of the tail. The sharp, sleek golden beak and the black, intelligent eyes that peered back at me. It was beautiful...  
  
A polite cough alerted me to Dumbledore's presence. I grinned apologetically and sat myself down in one of the plush seats again, trying to keep my eyes off the beautiful bird to my right.  
  
“Well, how was your first day Miss Vanderwik?” said Dumbledore with a knowing smile. I instantly felt my grin drop and moved my gaze to my hands which were clenched in my lap.  
  
“I'm so sorry Professor. I already have detention. I didn't mean to really! Well, I did but I hadn't meant to get into trouble already...”  
  
“It's quite alright but I encourage you to refrain from fighting in the future,” I nodded despondently, “but we have much more important things to discuss now. Your monthly happenings.” I looked up at him and watched his face as he spoke.  
  
“First, let me tell you that we have dealt with this situation before and it went off rather well. There is a secret passage way to an abandon shack which housed another student with your particular problem before. I currently have a few teachers outfitting it for use again and it should be ready for use by your next session. Professor McGonagall will accompany you to the shack for your first session so you know how to get there and get settled. Be ready by eight that night and wait outside the portal for her. I encourage you to tell no one about this but if you must then I recommend Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger whom you have already made friends with. They are trustworthy and a great choice of friends.  
  
“I also have Professor Snape making wolfsbane for you which you will take every night for a week before your transformation. It will help with the pain and help you control yourself when the change does happen. I've contacted Remus Lupin, the student who had this particular condition before, so if you have any questions about this process or just werewolfdom in general, feel free to contact him. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to help. I know you've had to go through this process alone for many years now but I just want you to know that you are not alone now, and I will do anything in my power to help you, Ariel. I mean it.”  
  
I felt tears in my eyes at what Dumbledore said. I used to be so scared and alone every change. All the pain and loneliness... And now I had someone to care for me like my parents couldn't.  
  
“Thank you. For everything. You don't know how much...” I trailed off, a few tears slipping down my cheeks. Dumbledore smiled kindly and nodded in understanding. I got up without a word, walked to the door, sent a small smile in Dumbledores direction, and walked out. I made my way slowly down the winding staircase, feeling at peace and calm.  
  
It took me a while to get back to the Commons since I didn't look at my map but went purely on memory and along the way, wiped away all trace of my tears. When I reached the portal, I had to search a minute for the password.  
  
“Gillyweed.” I said and smiled at the portrait. She smiled back and swung open. I was greeted by a few cheers when people in the room caught sight of me which made me grin at the acceptance. I saw Hermione, Harry, and Ron in the crowd and smiled widely. I felt Fred and George's arms slip around my shoulders and laughed when picked me up to rest upon their shoulders.  
  
“This girl punched Draco Malfoy on her first day here! All bow to the new hero of Gryffindor!” they shouted in unison. A roar emitted from the crowd and I threw my arms up in the air, laughing loudly.  
  
As long as they didn't figure out what I was, I was fine. As long as I didn't slip, everything would be okay. I trusted Dumbledore; he would get me through this.


	3. The Act of Smiling

Life over the next few days were good-with the exception of Defense Against the Dark Arts class and the ego-bruised Draco Malfoy. I was accepted whole-heartedly by the Gryffindor House and even by the majority of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Everybody knew what had happened-though accounts of which were slowing deferring from the actual truth- and the people who Draco Malfoy had messed with were only too eager to re account the story. Even the girl from Hufflepuff that had sent me the airplane note came up to me and apologized, though somewhat begrudgingly.  
  
“It's okay.” I simply said. I almost added 'I understand' but I had an inkling that it would not have worked out as planned. It was a bit awkward because she had just nodded after that, stood for a moment as if unsure what to do now, then turned on her heel and walked away. I was glad that that was over. Unfortunately, the thing with Draco Malfoy had yet to be.  
  
He seemed to take it extremely offensive that I had punched him when he was egging me on. I guess he wasn't used to retaliation yet, which was humorously surprising because he was really obnoxious and I couldn't see why anyone had yet popped him one. It was pretty funny because we were still paired together in Potions and I could hear him muttering underneath his breath. Probably vicious and hurtful things but I couldn't really take him seriously when he had scooted his stool over as far as the table would let him.  
  
It was a bit unnerving that I was an enemy of the Slytherins and stuck in a large group of them for more than an hour or so every other day. Pansy had gotten into the habit of staring at the back of my head as if willing it to catch fire. I saw other Slytherins shoot me dirty looks all class and it took all my will-power not to smirk viciously and rub it in their faces that their self-proclaimed Slytherin King was afraid of me.  
  
Snape, however, seemed to take it onto himself to make my life a living hell in Potions. It was like he was making up for all the comments Draco was refraining from saying in a loud voice. He's already dropped about eight of my completed potion samples “on accident” and gave me an extra essay to write on the properties of unicorn hair when I had failed to make a Dreaming potion up to his ridiculously high standards for me. And those standards weren't in my best interest, no, they were to get back at me for punching his favorite student. How Draco got to be his favorite student with his oh-so-delightful attitude was beyond me though.  
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't much better. Professor Umbridge was a complete joke. Weren't we supposed to be learning about defensive jinxes and how to protect ourselves? Copying notes out of a book that skirted around actual practices of said defensive spells was not preparing us. I felt like slapping her.  
  
She wasn't qualified to be a teacher and I've heard about her detentions. Harry showed me the scars to prove them. Why wasn't Dumbledore in an outrage about this? I mean, this was harming his students that I was under the impression that he cared immensely about. Except I did know why he wasn't doing anything.  
  
Hermione and all them had explained the situation to me; about how Dumbledore was on thin ice with the Ministry, saying he was making some kind of army which, even though I had only known Dumbledore for a few days, I already knew was complete bull. They hated the situation as much as me, probably even more so because I had yet to experience detention with Umbridge though I knew it was only a matter of time. She was wearing my patience thin and it was only going to get thinner with the full moon rolling around.  
  
The only real comfort was that I had that covered- or I guess Dumbledore had that covered. It was still a constant stress on my life but knowing that everything was covered and all I had to to was take a potion (something I was still a bit on the fence about considering Snape was the one making it) and show up. Everything would work out as long as I didn't let it slip. Even to Hermione, Harry, and Ron, to whom I was still considering confiding in.  
  
I also thought about sending a letter to that Remus Lupin fellow; even though I had been a werewolf for five plus years I had mainly gotten by on pure initiative and learned from trial and error. I knew next to nothing on the mechanics of it from a fellow werewolf; only just stuff from books. I was an expert in field work but lousy in desk work, point blank.  
  
Could I confide in him though? It might make me feel better and Reggie had yet to go anywhere. I guess it couldn't hurt though... But what about the trio? Harry and Hermione and Ron... Did I really trust them enough to say anything? I had only known them for a few days but they had done nothing but accept me, incident with Draco notwithstanding. I think I'll think about it for a while. See how things play out. You should never rush telling someone you just met that you turn into a 200 pound beast every full moon.  
  
So, in conclusion, all was pretty good. I had a few weeks yet until the next full moon, I didn't have to worry about social status (however shallow that may seem), and my grades were fine. The classes, excluding Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts of course, were fun. I was completely dumbfounded about how Hermione could get through a History of Magic class without falling asleep though. It was all I could do not to drool uncontrollably.  
  
She told me it was all for O.W.L.S., a test all fifth years had to take at the end of the year. All the fifth years were freaking out about it and studying late and everything. I was even having trouble keeping up with the work load and I already knew everything. Hermione was going insane about scheduling everything and I had deduced by now that she was insanely smart and one of the top kids in our year. I liked her.  
  
Ron and Harry were less homework-ly responsible though, always staying up extra late because they had procrastinated and had simply watched as Hermione and I completed our work. Ron was making the excuse that he was busy with Quiddich which I noticed Harry frowned darkly at. When I had asked about it, Hermione confided that Umbridge had suspended Harry, Fred, and George with a life-long bane from it after they attacked Malfoy. Huh, guess I wasn't the only one who's popped him one apparently.  
  
I felt for them though. I absolutely loved Quidditch and was a pretty decent Chaser. I had splurged on a Nimbus 2000 a while back and had practiced when I wasn't studying. I hadn't joined my old schools team though; every body on that team was a complete idiot on a broom.  
  
Ron was apparently a Keeper and Ginny the Seeker since Harry got banned. The team was hurting since they had to switch people around and recruit new people who rode like they had never seen a broom in their life. The one practice I went to, I was wincing almost constantly at the horrendous seizure that Jack Sloper called flying. How he managed to get on the team as Beater was astounding. I toyed with the idea of trying out, it couldn't do much harm right? Plus, I knew that the team could be great again if things were changed up a bit. Jack Sloper was definitely a hindrance.  
  
Ron was a pretty good Keeper except for his whole confidence problem. I completely understood though. I liked Ron though, he was chill. And even though I had known the three for about four days, I could definitely tell that something was up between Ron and Hermione... Believe me, it was only a matter of time.  
  
Today started slow though. I had Care of Magical Creatures first thing and I was non-too excited. Don't get me wrong, I loved Hagrid already. Sure we was a bit off kilter with his Danger Factor but otherwise like a big cuddly bear. A very, VERY big one. Even though Hagrid was chill, Care of Magical Creatures was a bit tough for me. The creatures that we were working with all seemed to have a sixth sense and immediately knew what I was.  
  
They all shied away from me or went berserk when I passed too close. Hermione noticed and I was forced to pass if off as I didn't work well with animals (which is ironic considering I was one practically). Fang, Hagrid's dog, on the other hand, loved me. He always sat by me in class and drooled over my robes. I couldn't get angry at him though; he was way too cute. The fact that he was close to 180 pounds and practically reached my ribs considered. Another reason why I liked him was because I knew that he knew what I was but didn't shy away from me like the other animals. He liked me for me and I was only too happy to pet him all class.  
  
Hagrid seemed to know about my condition though since he didn't push me to associate with the animals and was content to let me pet Fang and take notes just by observation. I heard a girl from Slytherin complain loudly at this and I was rudely reminded that I had yet another class with Draco Malfoy who seemed to find my situation suspicious. I wasn't too worried though. He can't pin anything on me just because animals don't seem to like me much- Fang excluded.  
  
So back to where I started, I had Care of Magical Creatures first thing this morning. Hagrid said he had something special today but I highly doubted it was something dangerous. Ron and all them had informed me that Umbridge had been on Hagrid's case about showing creatures that were too dangerous for students so Hagrid was going to have to tone down the threat of death. I walked with Harry, Ron, and Hermione to class, the grass tipped with frost and the clouds thick with snow. It had yet to start blizzarding. I couldn't deny that I was excited for snow; being from Oregon, specifically in the Willamette Valley, we don't get too much snow.  
  
As I was contemplating the sad fact that we got no snow, the group and I found ourselves outside Hagrid's house with a few kids mulling around. We were a bit early so we had to wait around a bit before class started and everyone seemed to appear at once. Hagrid trudged up from the forest and grinned at the class half-heartedly.  
  
“I got sumtin' speciel for ya' terday.” he rumbled, though looked throughly put-off. With a quick smile in Hermione and the boys and I's directions, he turned and started trudging back into the forest. With a quick glance at one another, the group and I were the first to follow him, encasing ourselves in the dark woods. The rest of the class followed quickly behind as if keeping up with us would save them.  
  
Inside the woods was dark, damp, and wonderful. I knew I should be a bit nervous because of what roamed in said woodland but I wasn't. I was with friends and was pretty sure I could protect myself at least enough to get away. The bright morning sun dappled the ground of thick needles and damp earth, which muffled our footsteps. There was creaking of oaks swaying gently in the breeze and the rustling of branches. Off in the distance every so often I would spot a flash of a dark something as it made it's way between the trees.  
  
I breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of pine, wet earth, water, and life. The air smelled like snow even though there wasn't any on the ground but it was still enough to increase my excitement for snow. There was a stillness in the air and it was like the forest or world was holding it's breath in wait for the first fat snow flake to drift from the pregnant sky.  
  
Absolutely wonderful.  
  
When I breathed in again after brushing my hand across a low hanging branch, the scent of pine increased and seemed to tickle at my memory, saying I should remember it. Where had I smelt pine recently?  
  
Fred.  
  
That was right. When he had hugged me, he smelled like pine among other things. For some reason I couldn't understand, I took another deep breath of pine, smiling faintly at the memories of bright orange hair, blue eyes, and freckles.  
  
I was so caught up in the scent that I hardly realized that Hagrid had stopped. When I peered around him, I was stuck momentarily speechless by what I saw but I heard gasps from the group behind me.  
  
In front of us was a large clearing with a brook running happily through it. The clearing was filled with flowers of all different colors and sizes and scents.... Dancing all through the clearing were curious specks of golden light that had something funky around them.  
  
You know on a hot day when you look ahead and you see heat waves? Where the scene is wavy and distorted? A similar effect surrounded the golden lights as they danced.  
  
“Anybody kno' 'hat they 're?” asked Hagrid, catching sight of our faces. Hermione instantly raised her hand.  
  
“Cherubim. Small, human-esk creatures that have wings and help humans with certain things like finding love.” she explained. Hagrid nodded and awarded ten points to Gryffindor at which Draco scoffed. There was a lull of sound and distantly, I heard voices.  
  
There was a song that was whispered on the peaks of the breeze. It swirled around in happy little tunes that played on the edge of your consciousness like a white noise that you didn't notice unless you sought it out specifically. It was like the babbling of a stream or echo of a child's laugh and made you smile faintly at it.  
  
I wasn't aware that I was moving though until I was several steps ahead of the group with Hagrid looking at me quizzically. Nobody said anything though but by the time I got to the edge of the flowers, I didn't care.  
  
I stepped into the meadow and was instantly swimming in various flowery scents that mingled together and smelled like a warm bath with flower petals. It brought any sense of coldness out of me and took in a tingly warmth that spread to the tips of my toes and fingers in delicate curls of heat. The golden flecks stilled for a moment before resuming their dance as one of them broke away from the pack and floated distantly over to me, as if regarding me curiously.  
  
Without my own accord, my hands raised themselves to cup the air before me. The golden light swirled around me for a second before oh-so dreamily floating towards my hands. As it got closer I got a better look at that. The shimmering, distorting waves cleared a bit and I saw a tiny person, no bigger than my hand, swishing delicate sparkling wings as it flew ever closer to my open palms.  
  
The cherubim was pink and golden with sharp angles that shimmered. The head was round and ended in a point with no hair, just more shimmering dust. The eyes were huge and dark, a kind of midnight purple. They were staring intently at my hands.  
  
Then, it landed on my open palms with tiny, warm feet. The effect was instant and multiple things happened at once.  
  
The other golden lights drifted forward and swirled and tumbled around us. The wind picked up and it circled around me like I was standing in the middle of a small tornado. The wind whipped at my waist-length ebony hair and swirled it up and above my head as my robe and other clothing were caught up to. I couldn't stop staring at the cherubim though.  
  
It reached its arms out to me, towards my face and I brought it slowly closer. As I brought my arms in, the wind grew faster and faster and the song I had heard earlier was beginning to grow louder and louder, the golden dots of the other cherubim still swirling.  
  
When I had my arms clutched close to my chest, the cherubim looked at me softly before placing its hands on my cheek bones and forehead to mine. In an instant, the wind stopped and I was distantly aware that my hair and clothing drifted around me slowly as if I were floating in water.  
  
My vision slowly faded and I heard a little voice speak in my mind, like a feather brushing against my skin. I wasn't afraid though, no, I felt completely and utterly safe.  
  
 _You're a special one..._  It said, in a voice that was quiet and childlike in innocence.  
  
 _Veela and werewolf. How you will be plagued. Yet blessed. For you will find a love where none have been more true._  It spoke again, the voice rising in power.  
  
 _How is it a blessing? Where will I find someone who will love...this, me?_  I asked, stringing together words from my subconscious. I felt a small light appear in my chest; I knew it was smiling.  
  
 _You may not understand now, but have patience, little one. Look where there are two, there you shall find your answer..._  The little voice drifted away and I felt a pang of sadness at its loss. Slowly my vision returned to me and I saw that my hair and clothing were no longer floating around me and all the little globes of light were gone. Except for the one in my hand.  
  
It took its forehead away from mine and kissed me on my cheekbones on both sides, a fiery sensation erupted from the spots, then it pulled back. It looked at me for a second before winking and slowly disappearing. Just vanished on the spot leaving two little footprints of golden dust.  
  
I was at a loss for second, faintly disoriented by the recent events. Then, hearing a rustling behind me, turned around and saw Hagrid was making his way towards me with a slightly panicked look on his face.  
  
“Yeh alrigh'?” he said as he finally got to me. He put his large hands on my shoulders and looked over me, inspecting for injuries of any kind. I grinned for some reason in a great mood.  
  
“Yes, Hagrid, jeez,” I rolled my eyes while smiling to show him I didn't mean any disrespect, “I swear I'm completely fine. Utterly in perfect health.” I didn't count the fact that I had werewolfdom to hinder my health. Hagrid gave me a skeptical look before nodding slightly and ushering me back to the group, muttering something under his breath.  
  
Every body looked shocked, a bit scared to be honest, yet Hermione looked absolutely intrigued. I made my way back to Harry and Ron and Hermione while Hagrid tried to get the class back on topic. They seemed to be buzzing about what happened, which didn't seem too much of a big deal to to me. I mean, it's important for me and all but for them? All they saw was a classmate interact with a creature.  
  
Once I got there, Hermione yanked me close to her, “What was it like?”she demanded, an excited look in her eyes. I grinned and recounted everything to her, except for some of the things the cherubim had mentioned, for instance, me being a werewolf and veela. She didn't need to know about that just yet, if ever. She beamed when I had finished and seemed to be examining everything in a scholarly like mode.  
  
“That's so romantic, Ariel.” I just shrugged and turned back to the boys who had been staring at us for a while, trying to hear what we had been saying. Hermione linked arms with me and we walked back to them.  
  
They shot us questioning looks but didn't say anything as Hagrid had taken on a strict (and probably rare for him) tone that made the rest of the classes chatter die out. He smiled, as if pleased by himself, and continued to talk about the cherubim, still making it clear he thought little about them (probably based on their dangerous factor which was practically nonexistent). His attitude sent a wry grin around my group but we continued to listen dutifully.  
  
And the rest of the class pretty much passed like that. All in all, it was a pretty normal day for me and I appreciated it since normal days are kinda nice when you have the looming stress of being a werewolf over your head.  
  
Slept through History of Magic, spaced out through (and ignored the many pleas from Professor Trewlany to wash my watch since it apparently was going to explode soon) Divination; and actually had fun in Herbology. I stuck with Neville pretty much during that class and he was a pretty cool guy and seemed to know a lot about the subject (no wonder Professor Sprout loved him).  
  
I was currently lounging in the Common Room with Hermione since we had taken the time to finish our homework earlier while Ron and Harry were struggling with the many essays that had piled up from their procrastination. It had been a nice day and the sky seemed that much closer to a blizzard; I could smell it.  
  
A multitude of people were hanging out in the common room but the majority of them were working on homework of some kind or another.  
  
Currently, I was whooping Hermione's ass in Wizarding Chess. It was hard at first but it became clear that while Hermione was astounding book-wise, strategy was not her thing. Ron had been complaining loudly about how we couldn't face off. They had told me about how Ron had almost never lost and was the current reigning champion between them.  
  
I planned to take over.  
  
As I was completing my check-mate move (which Hermione cursed loudly at; shocking both Harry and Ron- she had gotten very into it...), the Common Room portal opened again, the Twins coming through, carrying a large box each. They trudged over to a table in the back, directly behind the couch I was sitting on, and dropped their burdens with a sigh. Both of them were grinning madly and shot each other sly looks every few seconds. I got curious; plus I kinda wanted to talk to Fred again, but that was hardly my motivation. Really.  
  
Slipping up from the couch as Hermione was demanding a re-match and setting up for another game, I silently (since my combat boots were long forgotten by the couch) walked over to the Twins as they poured over the contents of the boxes, hiding them from view with their bodies. Standing close behind them, I raised to my tippy-toes to look over their shoulders but was sadly cut-off from view as my 5' 6” form could not look over their shoulders. They may not be as tall as Ron but they were still pretty damn tall.  
  
I tried again, my feet straining with the effort, then realized that I could smell Fred again. The pine and apples and cinnamon swirled around my senses in wonderful curls. It was familiar already and irristable. Frowning, I realized that I had never been so effected by Fred's smell before. It seemed stronger and that much more nice. Normally my senses didn't increase until the week of the full moon; so what had happened?  
  
Brushing off Fred's scent and dropping back flat footed to the floor (my feet were starting to cramp) I finally made my presence known since they had both been too occupied with the boxes to notice me.  
  
“So, whatcha doin'?” I asked, making them jump and curse loudly.  
  
“Bloody hell! You scared us, Ace!” George said, grabbing his chest as if I had induced a heart attack. Fred was leaning against the table, breathing loudly and theatrically, putting on a show about being startled. I just rolled my eyes and grinned at the nickname.  
  
“So?...,” I prompted, eager to know what, in fact, they were doing, “Are you gonna tell me?” My curiosity had always been a problem but I couldn't help wanting to know things, especially when people were making such a big show about it.  
  
Fred and George shared a look as if having a mental conversation. I saw Fred tilt his head in a “Come-on” look with which George responded with a “Still-you-can-never-be-too-careful” kind of expression. It was amusing.  
  
Finally, after Fred had sent a “logical-argument” face to George, they looked back to me simultaneously and saw that I had been watching them avidly. They both blushed a bit. It was cute since they both had gotten the tiniest bit pinker while still grinning wickedly. Fred worked it very nicely.  
  
“What we are about to tell you is in the strictest of confidence-”  
  
“So strict,” George continued, “that we can't do it here, where  _others_  might over-hear.” He said others like a dirty word.  
  
“But you guys were just working on them in plain sight; does it really matter if people over-hear when they could've just looked over and figured out what you guys were working with?” I pointed out, tapping my nose with my index finger (a habit I had when I thought about something). Their wicked smiles dropped a bit before Fred coughed and told me that was beside the point.  
  
After that little event, they both turned around again, shuffling with the boxes which I assumed meant they were closing them, before picking them up and pushing me with said boxes towards the portal door.  
  
“Wait, wait. I need shoes, dummies.”  
  
They sighed heavily and stopped pushing me, sending identical looks of exasperation to each other like I was causing a great annoyance with my need of footwear. As I walked back to the couch and grabbed my shoes, I turned to Hermione, who's nose was stuck in a book called “The Art of Strategy”. Figures.  
  
“Hey, I'll be back in a bit, then we can have a re-match.” I finished tying my boots and stood up, Hermione, still focused on the book, merely nodded. I grinned, knowing that I could say something completely outrageous and she'd be still so into the book that she wouldn't even notice. I sent a small wave to Ron and Harry, both of whom grunted noncommittally.  
  
Making my way back to the Twins, I noticed that Fred had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow. I stopped, staring at his forearms. The muscles beneath his skin were tense and and taunt; moving nicely as he shifted his box. It made my breath catch and I couldn't help but watch as they moved again after he had settled the box into a manageable hold. Quiddich, even though he had been off it for a while, had done wonders for his forearms. I couldn't help but stare, really. I had a thing for muscles.  
  
A laugh from George brought my attention back from Fred's muscles unfortunately. I finally started walking again, reaching them quickly.  
  
“Jeez, took you long enough. Let's get going before I turn into a crippled old man.” George said sarcastically before walking over to the portal obviously trying to withhold another smile.  
  
Fred gave me a grin, “Sorry about that. I'm the patient, caring, good-looking, romantic, smart, and irristable one.”  
  
“Obviously the modest one too.” I winked at him before following George out of the portal. With my hearing, I noticed it took Fred a few seconds to start after me. Weird. Anyway, I caught up to George and a few seconds later, Fred too. They both took the lead and I followed them, laughing as they cracked joke after joke. Upon walking for a few minutes (note: this castle was HUGE) I found myself staring at a blank wall while motioned for me to stay there.  
  
They then proceeded to walk back and forth in front of said blank wall, a look of (I assumed) rare concentration on their faces. After the third walk about, I opened my mouth to ask what they were doing but stopped when a large, ornate doorway melted from the smooth wall-face. George 'ah-ha!'ed accomplished. Turning back to me, they smirked at the surprise on my face which I quickly wiped off, much to their amusement.  
  
“Can you get the door?” Fred asked after he and George had stopped chuckling. He made a motion with the box towards the door and I had to avert my eyes quickly from him as the motion made the muscles in his arm glide and tense under the skin. Nonetheless, I made my way over to the door and pulled it open to reveal a potion classroom-esk room.  
  
“This is called the Room of Requirement. Whatever you need, it pops up with. All you have to do is walk in front of it three times thinking about what you need, like a bathroom or something, and it appears fit to your requirements. We need a room where we can make potions.” George explained as he and Fred walked in and placed their boxes on an empty table.  
  
“Why?” I asked as I examined a jar filled with a purple liquid. There was an eye in the center that watched me. It was disturbing to be honest.  
  
“Because we make stuff that involves potions. See, we make candy and stuff for pranks and jokes. We're planning to start a shop so we've been making various products. These boxes,” George motioned to their previous burdens, “are filled with a new line we've been working on since we perfected the others.”  
  
Something clicked in my mind, “That's what Hermione was talking about.” I recalled my first day here when Hermione had been angry at the Twins for selling their merchandise. They didn't say anything but shared a look that told me that Hermione ragging on them was nothing new.  
  
“So what have you perfected?” I asked, honestly curious. Waiting for their answer, I hopped up onto a desk and leaned back on my arms. Their faces split into huge grins as they opened one on the boxes and pulled out various items. Hurrying toward me, they stopped and began to present the objects one by one.  
  
“This,” Fred started, “is a Canary Cream. It transfigures the consumer into a huge canary but it only lasts a few minutes. They molt after the alloted time and return to normal.”  
  
“Another is the Fainting Fancy. It renders the consumer unconscious until someone feeds them the antidote.” George held out a small lump of chocolate that looked seemingly harmless. They went on to describe a multitude of others like Ton-Tongue Toffees, Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougats, and Fever Fudge; among many others. I was deeply impressed.  
  
“This is incredible guys. I mean, with all the complex magic and potions, not to mention how they're all completely harmless- for the most part- but the fact that you guys thought about all of these, successfully made them, and made sure they were safe for consumption is astounding. I never knew you guys were so... dedicated. I am completely floored and pretty envious.” I gushed, meaning all of it. My face was a huge smile. These little treats were amazing and I could see that George and Fred had taken a lot of time and effort to make them. I may not know them well, but I felt proud of Fred and George.  
  
They both grinned at my praise before putting all the candies back in the open box.  
  
“So what are you working on now? Since you completed the candy line that is.”  
  
“Our Wonder Witch line, complete with love potions and Ten-Second Pimple Remover.” George reached in the second box and pulled out a pink bag.  
  
“And Pygmy Puffs; though we're having some problems with this.” Fred reached in and pulled out a round puff of something that couldn't seem to stay one color. Instantly, I shot off the desk and propelled myself towards the little puff. I stopped close to Fred so examine the puff further, noting in the back of my mind that Fred's scent was once again curling in my senses, bringing a small blush to my cheeks for some reason. I pushed it out of my mind and focused on the adorable little puff.  
  
“Aw,” I cooed, “It's so cute!” The little puff was a bit smaller than my palm and drifted from color to color in a never ending pattern. Its eyes were two little black dots nestled in the fluff.  
  
I held out my hands to Fred, looking at him eagerly. He seemed taken back for a second before placing the little puff gently in my hands. Instantly, it made a little pip and rolled around in small circles, soft fluff tickling my palms. It made me giggle.  
  
Fred and George looked shocked when I glanced at them, making my smile drop a bit as I took in their expression.  
  
“What?” I asked, a bit nervous. Was I hurting it? Did I do something wrong? All I did was hold it in my palms...  
  
“It's never made a sound before. All it's done was sit there and change color. It's not even supposed to do that!” George said. Fred looked equally as shocked but had narrowed his eyes in thought after a second. He and George started talking at once.  
  
“Is it cause she's a girl?”  
  
“No, we let Katie hold it and it still did nothing.”  
  
“Why her then? What did she do?”  
  
“I don't know. Maybe it's something about her.”  
  
“But she's not any different from anybody else.” I paled a little and took a step back from them as they discussed; this was coming too close for comfort. Instead, I focused my attention on the little puff still peeping and rolling around in my hands, contemplating it.  
  
Could it sense what I was? How could it? And why would it react so happy to me being dangerous if it could? The questions made me frown a bit. George noticed.  
  
“Hey, what's wrong?” George frowned too, confused at my change of emotion. Fred noticed to a put an arm around me. I stiffened but he didn't notice. His arm was warm, firm and heavy across my shoulders, palm burning through my shirt as he rubbed my arm. I caught his smell once again and closed my eyes, taking it in for a second.  
  
“I'm not exactly completely normal, though...” I started, deciding that I could risk telling them I was a veela at least. I wanted to help them with this, to help fix the Pygmy Puff line. Them knowing I was part-veela wouldn't do any harm, much less make them stop being my friends. They both seemed honestly concerned.  
  
“What do you mean?” Fred asked, squeezing me comfortingly. I opened my eyes and continued to stare at the Pygmy Puff. It had stopped rolling but peeped encouragingly. I glanced up at Fred, watching him smile smile softly at me, making a small one of my own appear. Telling them this wouldn't be that big of a deal  
  
“See, I'm part-veela. A quarter actually. Maybe the puff is responding to that.” There was silence and the Pygmy seemed to stare at me as if reprimanding me for not telling them the whole story. Whatever.  
  
“That's why she's so bloody hot!” Fred exclaimed, dropping his arm from my shoulder but throwing it up in the air like he had just figured out the meaning to life. He stopped mid-motion though as what he just said registered in his brain. I thought it had been silent before but now you could hear a pin drop.  
  
Then, after a second, George and I bust up laughing; George clutching his sides and me wiping tears from my eyes. Fred had blushed crimson and the tips of his ears were blazing red. It was adorable.  
  
“Shut up!,” he pouted, “You thought she was hot too!” He pointed an accusing finger towards George who nodded, accepting the accusation.  
  
“Yeah, but I didn't just scream it to the world. Way to embarrass yourself, mate.” I was still laughing and my cheeks were beginning to hurt from the wide smile that had appeared on my face. Fred refused to look at me but couldn't stop the corners of this mouth from twitching as he tried to withhold a grin.  
  
I put the Pygmy Puff in George's hand, at which point it instantly stopped peeping and rolling around, before turning and wrapping my arms around Fred's torso, admittedly still giggling a little bit. I managed to hold my full out laughter though; I didn't want to hurt his feelings.  
  
“It's okay,” I told him, “That outburst was very....endearing. I now understand what you meant by 'the romantic one' among other adjectives.” He just laughed a bit and returned my hug, long arms wrapping around my body.  
  
“Wait! He said he was the romantic twin right?! And among other things! Ace, you gotta realize that he's lying! I'm obviously the better twin!” George was outraged and continued ranting as I pulled away from Fred, reluctance shooting up quizzically. Me and him laughed a bit at George who had stopped ranting and glared teasingly at Fred. Fred no longer was beat red but there was still a distinct tint to the tips of his ears.  
  
George placed the puff back in a small cage in the box, making a small frown appear as I said a mental good-bye to the puff. It was so cute and I wanted to hold it again but it was Fred and Georges and I guess I would have to wait until they had fixed the line so I could buy one.  
  
Admittedly I felt a bit guilty that I hadn't told them the whole truth about myself but it was nice to have them know at least something about me that I didn't have to with-hold anymore. They continued packing up and soon had both boxes ready to go but were moving over to an empty cauldron, taking out a sheet of paper. I took this as a queue to start moving towards the door seeing as I had found out what I had come here for. Checking my watch, I saw I had just enough time to get back to the Common Room before curfew if I managed to get there without getting lost.  
  
“Where are you going?” George had been in the process of taking multiple jars off one of the shelves when he saw that I had made my way to the door and was in the motion of pulling it open.  
  
“The Common Room? I want to get back before curfew.” Quizzically, I cocked an eyebrow, wondering what he meant.  
  
“Aren't you gonna help us? I hear you're pretty good in Potions when Snape isn't dropping your samples.” Fred remarked, still looking at the piece of paper. I was a bit startled that they had expected my help. I thought they had just confided in me since I had asked, not wanted me to help them with their potions.  
  
“Er- I'd love to, but I promised Hermione I'd play her again in chess. And she doesn't take too well to people lying.” They nodded, understanding. I really did want to help but with the promise of the re-match with Hermione and the risk of getting caught after curfew, I decided that some other time would be better.  
  
“I'll help you sometime though; I promise. It sounds like fun.” I finished honestly. I meant it too. Hanging out with Fred and George was fun and made me forget the full-moon threat. It was nice not to have to worry for a time. The fact that they also wanted to include me in the creation process told me that they genuinely liked me and trusted me. How I accomplished that in four days astounded me but I had the feeling it had something to do with me punching Draco Malfoy.  
  
We said our good-byes and I felt the Room of Requirement, feeling excited that I would be able to help them. It didn't take me long to get back to the Common Room but I still ended up cutting it really close. After entering with a minute to spare, Hermione instantly bombarded me and forced me to start playing chess with her, telling me all about how she was going to beat me using proven techniques.  
  
I ended up crushing her worse than before. I fell asleep with a smile on my face and knew that this school year (or at least the last half) was going to be completely and utterly amazing.


	4. The Act of Coping

You ever just know that you’re going to have a bad day? You just get that feeling in your gut that’s like you swallowed rocks or you just have that unpleasant taste in your mouth for no apparent reason? Well, I experienced that the whole day.  
  
When I finally woke up, I woke up to the mother of all headaches; one that was only bested by those I got after I changed. I felt my blood pulse behind my eyelids and felt a sharp jab in my sinuses. I recoiled from the light when I opened my eyes and curled under the blankets again, thrusting the comforter over my head.  
  
Taking deep breaths, I attempted to control my head a bit. I finally got steadied enough to slowly bring the comforter over my head and adjust to the light bit by bit. It hurt like hell but I knew I would have to get used to it sometime. When I finally got steadied enough that I could sit up- an action that made my stomach churn and threaten to rebel- I saw Lavender directly ahead of me and figured out what happened to cause my dreadful headache.  
  
She had decided it was apparently a fantastic idea to spray some type of liquid all over the damned place. It smelled awful and prosthetic and smashed into my nostrils with a vengeance. It was like I was drowning in it and it hurt to breathe. I don’t know how much she sprayed but it was so thick in the air that I was starting to get dizzy.  
  
“It’s imported from Paris. So romantic, right?” She was squealing. My previous sleep euphoria went out the window and I had to consciously remind myself not to kick the crap out of her- even though I doubted my ability to do so when in my current condition. A low growl trickled from my throat and only those closest to me heard any of it.  
  
Hermione had been previously buttoning up her shirt when she had heard. Turning to me, she started saying good morning before something else distracted her:  
  
“Hey, are you okay? You look awful.” She had a worried look on her face and it brightened my day a little bit that she cared- even if she had just insulted me.  
  
“I feel awful.” I replied honestly, shooting a glance at Lavender who had just released another round of the spray. Oh God…  
  
“Are you sick? Do you want me to talk you to the Hospital Wing?” She asked, placing a hand on my arm and looking me in the eye directly.  
  
“No, I’ll be fine,” I took a deep breath, not that it helped much considering it was laced intimately with the perfume, and threw my legs over the side of my bed. The motion made black dots swarm in my vision and I put a hand to my head, cradling it, pleading with it to not fail me.  
  
The fact that I was having my ass kicked by perfume did not sit well with me. If I hadn’t have been a screwed-up werewolf, this would never have been a problem. But no, I had to be a messed-up, part-veela, werewolf thing that was bested by mere body sprays. It did not make my day seem any brighter.  
  
Dressing was a struggle. Every few movements, black dots swam in my vision and my breathing felt harder. Lavender had yet to stop spraying that god-awful perfume and was still going on and on about it in a much too high voice. If this is what a hang-over felt like, I am never drinking.  
  
“My cousin sent it to me. She said it works on all the guys and is guaranteed to get you a boyfriend. I wonder if it has spells on it or something. Maybe love potion too!” Is squealing all she ever did? Can’t she just talk normally? The sharp pitch of her voice did nothing for my headache which had slowly become worse the longer I stood up. The Patil twins were crowded around her, drinking in the perfume with wide eyes. They were clearly fonder of it than I was.  
  
Hermione had yet to stop looking at me though. She seemed to have acquired this intense worried look on her face and kept glancing over at me whenever I moved. I tried to look normal but was hard-pressed when Lavender started skipping around the room, swirling the airs content.  
  
The swirling brought new spray over my nose again and again. I decided that if I ever were given the choice not to smell, I would take it. No, that’s a lie. I settled for breathing in through my mouth instead.  
  
I was halfway through pulling my second combat boot on when it happened. Lavender had finally caught sight of me up and awake before prancing over to me with an eager look on her face. It took all my effort to feign a smile.  
  
“Ariel! Have you seen my new perfume? It’s from Paris. My cousin sent it to me. Doesn’t it smell gorgeous? Here! Try some!” Holding out her hand, she pointed the perfume nozzle towards me.  
  
I barely got “No!” out before she had pressed her finger down and sent a cloud of perfume spray all over me.  
  
And that’s all it took. I passed out.  
  
\---  
  
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I needed to pee. Funny how my priorities were right?  
  
I was in a small twin bed, covered by a thin sheet and white quilt that did nothing for staying warm. There was a curtain around me, blocking out the rest of the room but I had already deduced that I was in the Hospital Wing. It smelled, blessedly, clean and sterile. No hints of the retched perfume that Lavender had oh-so politely bestowed on me against my will.  
  
I also noticed that I wasn’t in my clothes anymore. I was stripped to my tank-top and uniform skirt. My combat boots were by my bed and a clean robe on the chair along with a clean shirt. They must have given me other clothes since the ones I had on before were drenched in the smell.  
  
My head only had a trace of the headache from before and my stomach no longer wanted me to meet my stomach acid. There were no black dots and no dizziness. I was thankful; feeling like that did not start my day well.  
  
I had just started throwing my legs over the side of the bed in the intention of getting dressed when I heard a sharp voice bark out from outside the curtains. The tone in it made me instantly freeze in my actions.  
  
Suddenly, the curtains were thrown back, revealing a very stern looking older woman, whom I assumed was Madam Pomfrey. She scared me.  
  
“No getting up! Do you realize what happened back there? You passed out! Did you eat enough? Sleep enough? How have you been sleeping anyway? You really need to take care of yourself better!” She ranted, while busying herself with checking me over. She looked into my eyes, looked down my throat, and other things before deducting that I was indeed not in any immediate danger.  
  
“I think you know why I passed out, Madam Pomfrey.” Was all I said as I pulled on my combat boots, thankful for the familiar feel. The Nurse stilled in her movement before picking up faster than before, now mumbling under her breath.  
  
When I had gotten done re-dressing, she checked me again, surveyed me (how do you feel, etc.), and forced me to drink some pumpkin juice saying it would be good to have something in my stomach.  
  
Really, I was fine though. I only passed out because my sense had gone into an over-load because of the excess perfume. I was eating right, getting a lot of sleep, wasn’t that stressed. She really didn’t need to be fretting over me.  
  
“Now, I want you to be careful today. No over-doing it. It may just have been an over-load because of…” she looked uncomfortable, “well, anyway, take it easy and get to class. It’s 2nd period.” Great. Snape. Gross.  
  
To say that I then moved my movements to the bare minimum speed would be an understatement. With luck, it would take me so long to get to his class that I would miss the whole thing! Why did I get dressed so quickly?! I should’ve known that this type of thing would happen.  
  
“Hurry! I expect you in class in the next ten minutes and I’ll know if you’re not.” Madam Pomfrey threatened. Damnit. It’s like she knows she scares the crap out of me.  
  
So, I had to rush to class. Ten minutes was barely enough time to go get my stuff then get to Potions so I had to run. Sure I loved Hogwarts but sometimes, when you need to hurry, the bigness of it was a hindrance.  
  
Finally, after I had a stitch in my side and I was bordering sweating, I skidded in front of Potions and ripped the door open, making myself known quite thoroughly. Everybody’s head snapped up at the sound of the door being wrenched from the frame and me rushing into the room, holding my side as it burned.  
  
Normally I was a good runner but apparently, my lungs still needed to get over the perfume induced black-out. Seriously? I was breaking because of perfume. Queue dark morbid clouds.  
  
“Ah- Miss Vanderwik. How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. You now get to add two additional hours to your detention time tonight- if you even decide to show.” Snape mocked from behind his desk. I was three steps into his class and I already felt like tipping over a desk. How he managed to do that is astounding.  
  
The Slytherins’ all snickered and I shot them a withering look that stopped the noise. Hermione, Harry, and Ron shot me pitying looks that I promptly ignored and I stalked my way over to the desk I shared with the oh-so pleasant Draco Malfoy. Can you hex yourself?  
  
“Well, you look in a great mood today, baby.” Draco sneered, leaning onto the desk with a cruel smirk on his face.  
  
I was dumb-founded, “Baby? Do you want to have your ass beat or are you just masochistic like that?” He just laughed with no sense of warmth and his silver-blue eyes glittered ruthlessly. This was not helping my mood.  
  
“I’ll take whatever you’d do to me, honey.”  
  
“Were you dropped as a baby? I don’t think you could’ve forgotten already what I did on my first day here and I’m sure your face remembers.” His smirk drooped a little and I allowed myself a small victory before he started again. I didn’t get his deal. Yesterday, he was hiding on the other side of the table, too scared to talk directly to me and now he was hitting on me?  
  
“I’ve always liked it a bit rough.” He leaned forward on his hand and lowered his voice, holding my gaze. My temper spiked.  
  
So, as I got up with my cauldron to go get the assigned potions’ ingredients, I swept my hand backwards and knocked his palm from under his chin. His head fell violently but he caught it at the last second; an inch away from slamming his chin onto the hard wood desk. His smirk dropped completely and he glared. I wasn’t impressed.  
  
As I walked towards the ingredients cabinet, I smirked coldly at him and winked with no amusement. It was a deadly expression that said I meant business.  
  
Feather of a raven, mucus of a glow-worm, shell of beetle. Were we seriously going to ingest this? I volunteered Draco Malfoy to try it first. It was a Happiness Potion, one that Snape didn’t look so happy to assign. If it were up to him, I’m sure we’d be concocting something poisonous, which Harry or I would try out to see if it was made right.  
  
Hell, I’d rather drink poison than go back to the table.  
  
It said the potion needed about half an hour to make and I had only a few minutes more than that left of class. So, I went back to my desk, promptly ignoring Draco which he didn’t seem too keen about. I sat down, back ram-rod straight, un-at-ease and tense as if waiting to be struck. I didn’t trust him, which was pretty obvious.  
  
Crushing the beetle shell with the flat of my silver knife, I mentally blanched. I hated bugs. Especially spiders. Sure being a werewolf made me more resilient to damage, stronger, and healed faster than other people, but spiders still gave me the willies. They were evil. Nothing should have that many legs.  
  
And Draco Malfoy shouldn’t have arms apparently. As I finished grinding the beetle to a find powder, Draco’s hand ghosted over my knee, traveling higher and higher, playing with the hem of my skirt. I stopped grinding, reached one hand under the table and grabbed his fingers just as they slipped under the hem.  
  
I gripped them tightly, crunching them together mercilessly. He winced but withheld a yelp of pain I knew was in the back of his throat. Squeezing tighter, I waited until he made eye contact with me. He winced at my stare more than the pain in his fingers.  
  
I leaned in close, keeping my voice quiet and making sure no one else could hear what I was saying:  
  
“Listen and listen well, because I’m going to say this only once. I don’t like you and I never will. I think you’re a pig who desperately needs more than his nose busted. You’re little more than dirt to me right now and putting a hand on me is not the best idea. I’ve had a shitty day already and you touching me isn’t making it any better. Do it again and I’ll break off your fingers one by one.” I squeezed tighter and he groaned lowly, pain increasing. I waited a moment, making sure the message sunk in before releasing his fingers so he could yank them back to relative safety.  
  
I felt bleak. My mood was black and I felt the anger from the day settle on my chest, making it hard to breathe. The “count to ten and breathe deeply and slowly” didn’t help at all either. I felt like resting my head on the table and sitting there until the mood faded away with time. I had a feeling the rest of the days events wouldn’t help my mood. Especially since I had to deal with Umbridge later.  
  
Draco was shooting me a dark look that reeked with hatred and I shot him back one that matched it. Why he even tried the feel up was beyond me. Seriously? Did he think I liked him? I punched him in the face for Pete’s sake! How much more of an “I don’t like you” action can you do?  
  
Sighing as my mood got blacker, I began the potion again, reading and re-reading the instructions carefully, making sure I got nothing wrong. With two minutes to spare until the end of class, the potion was done and I carefully spelled a portion into a test bottle, marking my name on it.  
  
Grumbling to myself about my day, I stalked towards Snape’s desk, making sure to place my sample in the middle of all the others, no where near an edge or anything. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Asshole.  
  
The cleaning didn’t take very long but I had just placed my silver knife back in the sheath for it as the bell sound rang. Instantly, Hermione was by my side rambling on and on about this morning when I passed out.  
  
“I seriously panicked, Ariel! You could’ve been seriously ill for all I knew! You’ve been eating right haven’t you? Are you stressed about the transfer?” she asked question after question, leaving me with no way to actually answer any of them. It irked me a little but I resisted from snapping at her because she was only being a good friend.  
  
We (meaning Ron, Harry, and I) waited for her to finish. All of the students but us had left the room, hurrying towards lunch.  
  
Finally when she had trailed off, obviously waiting for me to respond, I opened my mouth but stopped when I heard something that made my stomach clench with anger.  
  
Glass had broken from behind me. I whipped around, already knowing what had happened. Snape stood in front of his desk, looking down at a little glass sample potion vial that had been smashed on the ground. A little slip of writing was soaked in the potion but my eyesight was good enough that I could read the little soaked slip.  
  
Ariel V. in neat, curly handwriting.  
  
It was like I was punched in the stomach. Anger curled in the pit of me, dark and hot and I felt my chest tighten. I snarled at him, surprising myself at the act. It was closer to my werewolf form than I had been since the change and it scared me. Stumbling a step back and nearly knocking into Ron, I tore my gaze from Snape who was smirking victoriously and hurried from the room, leaving Harry and the others behind.  
  
I made my way through the dungeons without really registering anything. My mind was miles away, desperately trying to calm myself a little bit. Showing my more volatile side wasn’t helping my day and wasn’t helping me keep my cover. Snape deliberately egged me on, knowing that I was in a black mood. He knew I wasn’t in control.  
  
I guess that’s my fault. I should be in control. I should be able to handle all this. What was going on? I just needed to breathe. That’s it. Breathing.  
  
I decided to go flying. Lunch was an hour so I’d have enough time to grab my broom and head to the field. I wasn’t even remotely hungry even though I had missed breakfast, so I knew my anger was extreme. I loved eating and did it seriously often and knowing that I wasn’t hungry after thirteen hours with no sustenance tipped me off that I definitely shouldn’t be around people right now.  
  
Since I finally had a destination, I adjusted the strap of my bag and hurried off towards the field. I knew that Umbridge had confiscated Harry’s and the Twin’s brooms and locked the others up by the field but I wasn’t worried about the lock. Living in an orphanage and keeping out half the nights taught me a trick or two.  
  
The sky was over-cast today, with even darker clouds than yesterday. It raised my mood a little knowing that snow was coming, but it wasn’t enough to raise it entirely. I wasn’t even sure that flying could do it either but it would at least help to gain some control over myself. Plus, I was maybe indulging myself, considering I hadn’t flown for weeks. It was one of the things that lifted all stress from my shoulders.  
  
When the field came in sight, I hurried towards it faster, jostling my bag but ignoring it as it banged repeatedly into my thigh. I entered the changing rooms and walked through them and out onto the field. There was a small door to my left as I exited and I dropped by bag by the doorway.  
  
Standing in front of the door, I checked to see if it was locked.  
  
“Alohomora.” The door handle jiggled but didn’t set off the tumblers. I sighed, guess I would have to do this the old fashion way.  
  
What most people didn’t realize is that when someone charmed a lock not to unlock, they charm it against spells that an unlock them. They forget about the way Muggles do it so they never charm against it. Growing up in the orphanage and practically on the streets, learning how to pick locks was an invaluable skill.  
  
No I never stole anything but most of the time in the orphanage, the kids would freak out and lock themselves in their room and since the Mistress running the place would always loose the keys, the only options to get to the kids was to either pick the lock or break down the door.  
  
The Mistress always preferred more subtle ways.  
  
Reminiscing over my orphanage years, I kneeled in front of the door, plucking a bobby-pin out of my hair and unsheathing the silver knife that I had from potions. I poked the bobby pin and knife into the lock and wiggled it around in a practiced form, perfected by the numerous times I had to do it for the orphanage.  
  
After less than a minute, I heard a faint click as the tumblers released. I grinned, victorious, pleased that I had yet to loose the art of it. I put the bobby-pin back in my hair and put the knife away before opening the storage door and rummaging through the brooms present. I quickly found my Nimbus 2000.  
  
I loved my broom. Sure it wasn’t the fastest broom ever but it was still a pretty damn good broom and had served me well. I wasn’t even embarrassed about the fact that I named it “Mop”. Get it? Cause a mop is like a cousin of a broom? Well, I thought it was humorous when I had gotten it…  
  
Shrugging off my cloak and quickly tying up my hair in a messy bun, I mounted my broom and was quickly in the air.  
  
God, it was amazing flying. The moment my feet left the ground, my heart leapt into my throat and I relished the weight-less experience. After the initial shock of becoming air-born, a delightful spark entered my chest.  
  
It was mischievous and cocky and made a bubble of laughter erupt from my mouth. I felt like zooming to the stars, faster than the eye can see. I could do anything on a broom; I could see everything on a broom.  
  
I wasn’t a werewolf when I was flying. I wasn’t veela or a girl or human. I was the sky, clouds, part of the air.  
  
Shooting up completely vertical, I loved the wind rushing against me with cold fingers. The air was cold and sharp and seemed to cool the anger in my chest as I breathed in. The potions incident no longer seemed that big of a deal. Neither was Draco feeling me up or me passing out.  
  
All of it was gone, behind me. Flying could do wonders.  
  
Once I reached an altitude that it hurt to breathe in, I stopped going up and moved my legs off my broom, holding on with only my right hand. Instantly, I was plummeting towards the ground, marveling at how fast I was going.  
  
My stomach had climbed somewhere near my brain but I didn’t mount the broom just yet. I fell closer to the ground and rushed by the tops of the stadium towers. The feeling of being completely weightless was a wonderful stress-reliever. I’d done this before and every time it never failed to give me goose bumps and send my senses screaming. I wasn’t afraid. I was never afraid when it came to flying.  
  
It wasn’t until I was less than fifty feet to the ground that I adjusted my broom.  
  
Once I got back on, I shot myself into a parallel trail with the ground. I’d stopped rushing towards it with less than five feet away and I grinned at the adrenaline thumping through my veins.  
  
God, I felt fantastic. I swirled and tumbled and raced invisible competitors on my broom, not caring about anything else other than flying; the thing I did best-among other things. No sexual innuendo intended.  
  
Even though I was having the time of my life, I made sure to keep an eye on my watch. It made me inexplicably sad when I saw it hit a quarter to noon, meaning I had to pack up and head back up to the school if I wanted to be on time for Charms. Honestly? I’d rather keep flying and skip Charms (even though I loved it) than go to Umbridge’s class after- but that wasn’t saying much considering I’d pick having my teeth ripped out among other things than be in the same room with her presence in it for any amount of time.  
  
Gently, forlornly, I floated to the ground, watching in dismay as it got closer and closer. My combat boots touched the grass and it was like the weight of the world suddenly collapsed on my shoulders. I felt insanely tired but no longer angry. I’d take tired over angry any day.  
  
It wrenched my heart to place my beloved broom stick back into the storage closet and re-lock it. The feeling I got when I flew seemed distant and unreachable now. I hated it.  
  
Sighing, I picked up my bag, shouldered it, and headed back to the castle, reaching the doors as the bell rang. Right on time for Charms followed by a bit of my own personal Hell.  
  
\- - -  
  
When I had told Dumbledore I wouldn’t get in anymore trouble, I meant it. I was going to be a star student and make sure to make him proud. I was already unconvincing him with having to go through my werewolf problem; the least I could do was be good kid and not cause any more unwanted problems.  
  
Only, I didn’t anticipate that Umbridge could get worse seeing as she was a major irk factor in my life, one that I counted immensely in my daily irritation factor. It shouldn’t be possible for spawn of Satan to get worse but it was like she just woke up that day and said “Hey, let’s not only be spawn of Satan but evil incarnate!” I really wasn’t joking here folks.  
  
She literally had us reciting, out-loud, in unison, Ministry approved guidelines for defensive magic use. She skipped around us, giggling her little disgusting giggle, with a small, completely fake smile on her froggy face. It was despicable.  
  
 _“The Ministry has the well-being of all magical persons in mind. Protection, Justice, and Help are main factors whenever considering the teaching curriculum of all future students. We at the Ministry feel that students do not need to participate in and/or perform any defensive jinxes, curses, or hexes of any sort unless they are in a safe, protected environment provided by the Ministry.  
  
“The students that the Ministry has enforced the approved curriculum on have responded well and accepted the curriculum whole-heartedl-”_ Something that sounded mysteriously like my laugh, cut through the monotone chant of students. Everyone, of course, stopped dead and looked over to where the laugh had come from.  
  
Me.  
  
Well, this can’t end well.  
  
“Do you find something humorous, Miss Vanderwik?” Professor Umbridge asked sweetly, cocking her head to the right, smiling as if she’d swallowed a lemon. I kept my face neutral, tired about how she had to call me out. Seriously? Was she expecting us to be all fine and dandy about this…this… crap?... that she called teaching? She obviously had too much faith in our brainwashedness level.  
  
“No. I don’t.” I spoke evenly, calmly, looking straight into her eyes, resisting the urge to cock an eyebrow and smirk, knowing that particular expression would only cause me trouble.  
  
Umbridge smiled sickeningly, tipping her head even more and wagging her finger at me in mock reprmandation, “Oh- it’s not good to tell lies Miss Vanderwik! Surely you could just give us a hint about what you find so funny. Sharing is much better than lying.”  
  
“I told you, I don’t find anything funny. You must have been hallucinating or something.” My patience was wearing thin and that joke proved it to me. Umbridge’s smile dropped off her face and she put on a stern expression instead.  
  
“Miss Vanderwik, I’m asking you to please shed light on what you found so funny that you had to disrupt class.” Her voice was colder now, less squeaky, and her pallor had lightened and she now looked faintly green. Sit her on a lily-pad and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her and Trevor.  
  
“And I said I didn’t find anything funny; I mean, why would any person in their right mind would take humor in the fact that this article is complete and tota-” I stopped before I could say anything that would get me in trouble, cursing that I hadn’t stopped in time before I got too far along. Sarcasm was going to kill me someday.  
  
“Complete and total what?” Umbridge prompted, waving a hand for me to go one. I glared and remained silent. She walked closer to me and waved her hand again.  
  
I felt my eyebrow twitch in irritation and just wish she’d back off, this really wasn’t an issue worth pursuing.  
  
“Tell me now, Miss Vanderwik.” She had pressed her lips in a thin line, one that rivaled that of Professor McGonagall’s.  
  
“Fine- bullshit,” I snapped, finally loosing my patience altogether. It was like she’d poked me with a stick, egging me on, knowing I’d crack and say something profane eventually. “That article is complete and total bullshit but oh- it’s nothing compared to this class. Seriously though, did someone have a stroke and loose all brain function when they qualified you as a teacher? Because with your skills, you know the ones that you portray so vividly when you have us take notes the whole class?, with your skills, that’s the only way you got qualified.”  
  
I thought it had been silent when I had walked into the Great Hall on my first day here, I thought it had been silent when I had punched Draco in the face, but this? This by far was like being completely deaf.  
  
Umbridge’s face had slowly turned redder and redder as I spoke vehemently. A smirk grew on my lips as I talked and I realized that I didn’t regret a word I was saying. Getting this out so early would save me holding it in and making an even bigger outburst weeks from now.  
  
It disturbed me a little, wondering where all this anger had come from. I had never really talked back to teachers or gotten into fights before Hogwarts, so why was I reacting so volatile here?  
  
“Please leave my class, Miss Vanderwik. You also have a two weeks detention starting Monday.” She was shaking slightly and I felt a small pleasure that I had broken her cool, calm, frilly exterior a bit. I stood up, standing taller than her, towering over her pink form, my back stick-straight and my chin held high. I gathered my things and walked past all of the shocked faces of my fellow classmates and exited the room.  
  
Once out of there, it’s like I could finally breathe again. My face was flushed from my ranting and I had gotten about twenty degrees hotter from the anger. I shrugged off my cloak before wandering the hallways.  
  
I didn’t know where I was going honestly. I just felt like walking. I loved the castle. Honestly, I couldn’t get over it. They’ve always seemed so… magical and fierce to me.  
  
After about ten minutes of walking around, I found myself in front of the library. Yeah, my day just got better.  
  
Inside were dozens of shelves, climbing all the way too the top of the room with was high and arched. It smelled musty; like old paper filled with untold secrets and knowledge. It smelled like leather and wood and dust and oh-so amazing.  
  
I could just sit in the middle of the floor in the library and be happy. Surrounded by that many books, it was calming. The smell was easy on my nose and it was quiet. The perfect place to relax. So I did.  
  
The teacher that normally manned the desk by the entrance of the library was gone and there seemed to be no one in the whole room. I had it to myself.  
  
I walked straight down the main isle and stopped in the middle of the room, dropping my bag somewhere to my left and laying down on the cool stones, facing the vaulted ceiling, breathing in the smells of the room and feeling at peace and content.  
  
\- - -  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione found me a while later, almost dozing on the floor but not quite. Sure the cold, hard floor didn’t do wonders on my back but it felt amazing anyway. I could live with a sore back. I’d heal by tomorrow anyway.  
  
“Ariel, we have something to say to you.” Harry said solemnly. My happy feeling was instantly gone, replaced by a surge of panic and sadness. Bolting up from my laid down position, I looked at them all, bleakly, preparing myself for the inevitable.  
  
‘Here it comes…’ I thought in despair.  
  
“We’ve only known you a few days and truthfully? We don’t know much about you.” Harry said, looking straight at me. My stomach dropped a bit.  
  
“But we know you enough to do this.” Ron took over and I switched my gaze to him.  
  
“We’d like to ask if you if you want to join the D.A.” Hermione finished. My bleak mood disappeared and I was left with confusion.  
  
“The D.A….?” I prompted, looking at the three.  
  
“Dumbledore’s Army.” explained Hermione, as I stood up fully. “No it’s not an actual army but we made it since we were so outraged about the Ministry taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts. We thought Umbridge’s teaching was trash so we made a group that meets in secret and practices defensive spells. Since we’re not allowed to do them in class.”  
  
“It’s our own way of getting back at her, especially with her sadistic detentions. No one will believe me but Voldemort is back and the Ministry is swearing up and down he isn’t. We need to know how to protect ourselves. That’s what the D.A. is for.” Harry looked angry as he spoke, but I understood. Having people call me a liar is one of the most irritating things that can happen to me.  
  
“I’m in.” I said, a grim smile on my face.  
  
“That easy? You know it’s against the Decree’s that Umbridge posted. You could get expelled or more deten-” Hermione warned but I cut her off.  
  
“I’m in.” I repeated, completely sure of what I was doing. “I’ve been her four days and I already blew up on her so I can’t imagine having to have dealt with her the whole year. I believe you, Harry. I do. You guys have done nothing but accept me and we may not have known each other long, but I trust you guys and I’ll do anything to fuck with Umbridge.”  
  
I grinned, a bit wickedly, I’ll admit, but the trio smiled nonetheless. Ron took a galleon out of his pocket and flipped it towards me. I caught it without looking as I reached over to grab my bag. Vaguely, I saw Hermione’s eyebrows raise but I thought nothing of it.  
  
“What’s this for?” I asked, shrugging the pack onto my shoulder.  
  
“That’s how you know of the meetings. The numbers engraved on the side of the coin will light up, showing you the date of the new meeting. The coin will grow warm when the date changes. We hold the meetings in the Room of Requirement.” Hermione pulled out a galleon of her own. I whistled, impressed.  
  
“Welcome to the club.” Ron grinned excitedly, and I laughed, walking forward to link my arm with Hermione’s as we exited the library.


	5. The Act of Waiting

I knew it even before I had looked out the window. Before I had opened my eyes. And I think, even I had truly woken up. Sometime during the night, it had gotten just perfect. There was a cool feel to the outermost layer of skin on my body-the part that wasn't under the blankets and when I registered that I was conscious, I immediately knew what had happened.  
  
Leaping out of bed and narrowly missing falling flat on my face (an occasion that happened too often for my comfort), I pressed myself flat against the frosted, chilly window (probably inducing frostbite), gazing out at the school grounds. I barely with-held a squeal of joy.  
  
There was snow EVERYWHERE! Giant drifts piled up by the walls of the castle and along some of the ridges of the forest. The Lake even seemed to be frozen over too. Sweet! The forest, dark green and shadowy before, now had streaks of stark white from the snow on the pines branches. Icicles hung from the boarder around the window and I grinned widely already planning my day which largely revolved around being outside. It was Saturday, I had finished all my homework, and there was no full moon; That snow was mine.  
  
Peeling myself from the gorgeous site of the castle grounds covered in snow, I launched myself at my trunk, ripping in open and searching through its contents in a wild flurry. I would waste no time. I ripped out all the needed clothing articles and started getting dressed, making sure I would be warm enough that I could stay out all day.  
  
Two tank-tops, a t-shirt, thin jacket, thicker winter coat, leggings, skirt, warm-fleece boots that were turquoise rubber on the outside, and two pairs of socks. Sure my legs were hardly covered but I felt that the extra warmth in my arms and torso would balance it all out. After getting the necessary clothes on, I also dug out my bright red beanie that went fabulous with my hair, a white scarf to match my leggings, and red gloves; all of which I stuffed into my coat pockets which I would put on after getting outside. No need to prolong my hat hair. I was very proud of my [url=http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set-fans?id=33215575 ]outfit[/url].  
  
I was using the weekend to my advantage. Being in a uniform the whole week was boring and I felt like my actual wardrobe needed a day out. Uniforms were never my thing...  
  
After I got dressed and was content with my outfit, I quickly ran through anything other things I might need. Oh, right. Wand. Quickly grabbing that, I deducted I was ready. None of the other 5th year girls were up and I decided that I could let Hermione sleep in to make up for how bad I killed her at chess the other day. All of the past day’s events were behind me and I felt perfectly fine today. Nothing could bother me, even the looming fact that I had two weeks of detention with Umbridge ahead of me.  
  
I left a quick note for Hermione on the scrap piece of parchment that I had drawn the moon on saying I was outside and requested her and the boys as soon as possible because they were going to help me make up for the years of snow I had been deprived of in Portland.  
  
As I practically skipped out the door and down the stairs, I was aware that I seriously thought I was the only person up which was weird.  
  
With me, sleeping in when I could was practically a given. Waking up at 7:00 on a weekend was a rare event for me so I guess my subconscious also wanted snow as much as conscious me. It wasn't surprising. I figured though that I had at least two hours until I finally saw a friend or two.  
  
And don't get me wrong, all I wanted to do today was go play in the snow but it's not that fun alone. You gotta have someone to play in it with. Sure I was a werewolf, but I wasn't a loner. I liked company. Nonetheless, even though I couldn't go out as soon as I wanted, a huge smile was stuck on my face. Snow was snow and it made me deliriously happy.  
  
Making my way down to the Common Room and out of the portal entrance, I tried to think of things to do to prolong going outside- at least until one of my friends woke up that is. The fact that I was currently this close to sweating because of all my clothing was noted. I had put on the outfit because I was planning to go straight outside until I realized that I would be out there for two plus hours until I had something more fun to do than just sit there. And sitting still does not work for me most of the time.  
  
So what could I do for the next two-ish hours? Eat breakfast was obvious; I couldn't go long without food before I turned from teenage girl to mass murderer. Really, you didn't want to see me when I was like that. I was more hospitable when I was a werewolf. No joke.  
  
Anyway, I decided that I would eat while I thought of something to do. So, I made my way to the Great Hall, secretly pleased that I could make my way there without my map which I had stuffed in my pocket just in case.  
  
While I walked, I couldn't help but admire the castle. All the slate gray stone. The tall, thin ornate windows that succeeded in being simple yet detailed at the same time. How it was possible, I don't know. The early morning sun was bright yet without warmth as I passed under the spots that the windows let in. It was peculiar going from really bright to mid-brightness every few steps and the act made my eye sight dapple a little bit. It was still nice to walk through the castle though.  
  
When I got there, the Great Hall was open, but completely deserted. Yeah there was food on the tables but no one was in the room, excluding a ghost or two floating around. I recognized Nearly Head-Less Nick whom I had met a day or two ago. He was apparently the Gryffindor ghost and was often heard ranting about how the Headless Hunt was still refusing to let him join. The other ghost in the room was The Grey Lady who was really pretty if a bit of a downer.  
  
While I contemplated the ghosts present, I sat down at the Gryffindor table and was off-handedly deciding what to eat without really thinking about it. I consulted my stomach and finally put a few pancakes, a few strawberries, an apple, some hash, and lots of bacon. I could eat as much as Ron but mind you, I did it in a much more acceptable fashion. I didn't stuff my face like he did, much to Hermione's chagrin. Harry and I had only laughed as they argued.  
  
“Well, it is a pleasure to see a student up so bright and early.” Nick had floated to my side and sat down next to me, sending discrete mournful glances to my meal. I only felt a little guilty.  
  
“It's not to my choice, mind you. My subconscious has a plan of its own when it comes to snow.” I pointed out, munching on my apple, unconsciously connecting it with Fred. The thought startled me. Why was I thinking about Fred again?  
  
Nick brought me from my thoughts when he sent a questioning glance at my statement. I swallowed my bite, since it was impolite to speak with your mouth full. Ron well.... Let's not get into that.  
  
“See, I come from Oregon. Specifically Portland. You don't get much snow there or at least, not like here. Most of the time, we get barely an inch and I can only remember one time where we had this ice storm. But that was ice, not this powdery snow.” A small smile came to my lips as I thought about some of the memories I had of snow.  
  
Most of them were with my parents and the kids at the orphanage. Thinking of my parents... The smile drifted from my face. Nick noticed.  
  
“What?” he asked, staring at me intensely. I just shrugged and looked away, not wanting to talk about my parents. They brought back too many feelings and anger. I couldn't think about them when all they had done was...  
  
“Its nothing.” was all I said. Bringing dark thoughts and pity to Nick is something I didn't want to burden him with. He just nodded and accepted that I didn't want to elaborate.  
  
“So, what are you going to this morning?” I felt bad, abruptly ending the conversation like that. I felt like he wanted someone to talk to. It must get awfully lonely being a ghost. Maybe he was sad too. I know I would be if I had to walk in-between forever.  
  
He looked a little taken back by my question; like he had never been asked that or something. Nonetheless, he ended up smiling a bit before answering and I felt pleased that I made him feel a bit better.  
  
“Well, I plan to write to the Headless Hunt again. You do know that it's complete rubbish that they won't let me join. I mean, they can't let by half an inch,” he sniffed, indignant, “But, after that, I was going to have a very nice meeting with Professor Binns as he went over his next subject. I always do love a good sit-down with him. He has the most interesting subject, yes?” He looked me then, clearly expecting me to agree whole-heartedly with him. I wasn't going to ruin his mood so I nodded enthusiastically and gushed about his last lesson which, honestly, I ruined my worksheet in because I drooled on it so much. It was amazing I could retain enough information to feign love for it. Nick nonetheless was appeased and grinned at my answer.  
  
“What about you?” he asked after I had finished gushing, in the act becoming bit nauseas, “what are you going to do today?”  
  
“Well, I was going to go out and play in the snow but I didn't want to do so alone so I decided to post-pone until some of my friends woke up so they could hang with me. I figure I have about two hours before they wake up so all I have to do is wait until then. I don't know what to do in the mean time though... Any suggestions?”  
  
Nick looked thoughtful, stroking his beard in a slow, dignified way that sent unwanted giggles to the back of my throat. It was just like dorky prestigious-esk type of picture. Don't ask how I got that.  
  
“Well, I find that mornings are a great time for new discovery. That's why I write most of my letters to the Headless Hunt in the morning. It doesn't seem to help that much though...” he cast a despondent look at me and I nodded with an understanding look on my face, “You could do your homework?” He glanced, questioningly at me.  
  
I just shook my head, “Finished.”  
  
“Read?”  
  
“Libraries closed.”  
  
“Prank someone?” he seemed at a loss.  
  
“The Twins are sleeping.” I joked. Nick laughed, obviously catching my drift and immediately knowing what I was talking about.  
  
“Well then, why don't you write a letter with me? I'm sure you have someone who'd like to hear from you, plus you could keep me company. You obviously seem to have a higher tolerance with my ranting than others.” he suggested.  
  
It came as a shock but the more I thought about it, the better the idea it became. I mean, I had been thinking about lettering the Remus Lupin fellow and here fate was practically saying, “Do it!” It gave me a chance to write to him and pass time waiting for everyone to get up.  
  
“Alright,” I agreed and he smiled, “I'll go get my stuff and I'll be back in a few minutes okay?” He nodded excitedly and floated away, presumbably, to get his own stuff. Question: Who made ghost office supplies? I mean, quills and parchment and stuff? Whatever. I'll ask Hermione later.  
  
It only took me six minutes and twelve seconds to grab my quill and some parchment. Hermione was still asleep, sprawled across her bed in a very un-Hermione like fashion so I decducted that I indeed had quite some time before my friend was up. I conjured up some tape and stuck it onto the back of my note before pressing it onto her forehead. And if she didn’t notice that when she woke up, I was going to need to talk to her about how she got such amazing test scores.  
  
The thought made me grin.  
  
Nick was waiting for me by the Great Hall doors, floating their peacefully while examining the parchment he held in his hand. Seriously though, who made ghost office supplies?  
  
“Sorry if I took a while. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” I did feel a bit sorry. Keeping people waiting is disrespectful to me.  
  
Laughing a bit, Nick waved my comment away, “Think nothing of it. I had literally just gotten here when you walked up. Thank you for being so polite though. It is a refreshing change from the normal adolescent attitude.” We then made our way back to our previous breakfast spot.  
  
Pushing my plate away, I rolled out my parchment, set up my inkwell and grasped my quill. Nick had suspended his paper in the air and had the quill scribbling on it without him touching it. He was moving his lips to unheard words and the quill continued to write. I wish I could do that.  
  
Nick saw me watching and grinned. Turning back to my letter, I thought about what I should write. I didn’t have any idea who this Remus Lupin was save only the fact that he was a werewolf like me and had gone to Hogwarts too. He had gone through the same process I was going through.  
  
How do you start a letter like this though?  
  
 _“Hi, I’m Ariel and I’m a werewolf too!”_  
  
No, that just sounded dumb. What do I write though? I frowned in contemplation and tapped the end of my nose with my index finger, a habit for when I was thinking. Nick was still writing his letter and had already taken up most of the parchment length. Jeez, I was a pathetic excuse for a letter writer.  
  
After a while, I finally just started writing what came to mind, hoping I didn’t sound completely too dumb:  
  
 _Dear Mr. Lupin,  
  
I’m Ariel Vanderwik, the exchange student from America. Professor Dumbledore might’ve mentioned me? He said you’d be expecting a letter so I hope this doesn’t come as a total surprise…  
  
Anyway, sorry it took so long to get this letter out; I’ve never been particularly good at writing letters, much less ones that include me confessing something that people only found out by accident. Declaring what I am to someone I’ve never met is a pretty tough deal so I hope you’re able to understand why I took so long and why this letter rambles so much… Sorry about that too.  
  
So, here it is. I’m a werewolf.  
  
Wow, that was harder than I expected. I don’t think I’ve ever just said that to someone. Dumbledore says you’re a werewolf too and went to Hogwarts like I am. It’s oddly comforting knowing that someone has gone through what I’m going through currently, and made it out alive. Is that weird?  
  
You know I’ve never met another werewolf? Other than the one that changed me that is… But even then, he’s vaguely fuzzy with only a few details clear. Details that still haunt me. Are you haunted too? Wait, that’s probably a bit personal for right now, I apologize.  
  
Strangely, I’d appreciate it if you could owl me as soon as you can. Knowing there’s someone I could talk to would probably do wonders in helping me get through the rest of this year without succumbing a panic attack. If you could be that person… Since you understand…  
  
Anyway, I just wanted to get this letter out since Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Ariel Vanderwik_  
  
So it wasn’t completely horrible, right? I mean, it rambled but that was expected when I was confessing my darkest secret. Plus, I was confessing to a total stranger. That had to count towards something.  
  
Nick finished his letter right about the time that I did, smirking victoriously at it. It made me laugh for a second.  
  
He glanced over at me, still wearing his grin, “This letter will surely get through to them. It has to. My best plea yet. Ariel, if this works out, I’m never writing another letter without you next to me. I even tried your thinking habit and a wonderous idea sprang to mind.” He folded up his letter, still talking while I folded mine, feeling a bit lighter, knowing that I could have someone to confide in if he said yes. Jeez, that would be amazing.  
  
Nick was still talking, rambling on about how ingenius my thinking habit was, when we stood up from the table. After grabbing a few pieces of bacon to hold me off, I tucked my letter into my pocket and followed Nick as he talked. The clock above the Great Hall doors read 7:45. Only forever to go.  
  
I followed him as he floated down corridors and whatnot, trying to memorize the directions for any future letter sending. I presumed he was taking me to the Owlry. He talked and talked and talked about a million and one things, only occastionally stopping long enough for me to “yeah” or “uh-huh” before beginning again. It didn’t actually take too skill as long as I paid attention to the lilts in his tone as he spoke. It was kinda like a white noise to be honest.  
  
“How do ghosts send their letters?” I asked suddenly, voicing out loud something that I had been mulling over for some time while I munched on my bacon. Nick looked caught off guard for a moment, as he had been right in the middle of telling me about a dog he’d had, before he blinked and replied.  
  
“Well, we don’t have owls like you do. Our mail sends itself, you just have to know how to do it.” He stopped in front of a thick, wooden door and turned to face me. “I’m afraid I must leave you now though; Professor Binns calls.” I cocked my head, brushing my hair from in front of my ear but heard nothing. Nick grinned like he had a secret.  
  
“It’s been a lovely morning, Miss Vanderwik. I hope to do it again soon.” Nick bowed, smiling, and floated off down the hallway. I called out a good-bye, waving with my last piece of bacon, before turning to the door and pulling it open.  
  
There was a walk way that led out about fifty feet from the castle before wrapping itself around a tower not far out. The drop on the sides of the pathway were a bit unnerving so looking over was something I avoided. The pathway and stairs were covered with snow and I grinned madly, more than happy to break the fresh snow by being the first person to walk on it.  
  
My boots left cute little footprints as I walked. I ended up veiring to the sides more than once and had to catch myself on the railing because I was watching my footprints in the snow as I left them. The stairs curling around the tower were a bit slippery so I ceased looking behind me because falling off the stairs and killing myself would end up ruining my plans of demolishing Hermione in a snowball fight.  
  
Stepping inside the Owlry, I noticed first that it smelled. Owl pellets and droppings coated the floor and it smelled awful. There were rows of tall alcoves that each held a bundle of hay and sometimes a sleepy owl, their heads tucked under their wings. It was dark and musty, visible rays of sunlight stretching the ground. As I made my way in, eyes searching for Reggie, the owls closest to me, tittered in alarm and hopped a few paces futher into the room. Some even went to the point of flying to a different perch.  
  
I crinkled my nose in irritation and held out my arm, eager to be out of the room. Whistling as I finally spotted Reggie, I watched as he soared from a tippy-top alcove down towards my arm. He landed heavily and I winced, praying his talons hadn’t done too much damage to my jacket.  
  
He gave a soft cry and nipped at my eyebrow. I giggled, brushing down his back, marveling at the silkyness of his feathers. Reggie watched me with intelligent eyes and it made me grin, knowing that I had such a cool bird.  
  
Moving the piece of bacon from the arm that was holding Reggie to my free hand, I held it in front of him. He quickly shot out and grabbed bacon with his beak, holding the piece of bacon still with one of his talons so he could rip off chunks.  
  
While he did that, I brought the letter out of my pocket, making sure it was sealed. I walked out of the Owlry, grateful for fresh air and let Reggie hop off my arm and onto the railing, knocking off a bit off white snow in the process. I rolled up the letter tightly, tying it with a quick spell from my wand to keep it from unraveling. Conjuring a piece of twine, I turned to Reggie who had finished the bacon and was watching me, his yellow eyes flashing with understanding.  
  
He held out his leg and I quickly tied the letter onto it, double checking that it wouldn’t fall. After that was done, I stroked Reggie’s head, unabashedly talking to him:  
  
“This is for Remus Lupin, Reggie. Can you get it there?” He blinked and looked at me as if saying “Of course I can. I’m a badass.” I laughed a bit and scratched him once more on the head before stepping back. Reggie spread his wings and soared into the air, catching the currents with ease, and making his way south.  
  
\- - -  
  
I spent the next hour, searching for the Room of Requirement figuring it’d be good to know where it was for both meetings and helping the Twins with their products. I’d figured that the hallway would be familiar if I ever found my way towards it. The map didn’t show the room but then again, that didn’t really surprise me.  
  
It was amazing how all the hallways blurred together when you had absolutely no clue where you’re going. Maybe I should enchant a ball of string to help me guide through the castle, like how Jason did in the Labyrinth when looking for the Minotaur. Sure as hell better than loosing myself completely and utterly in the fatty castle.  
  
As I walked the halls, I passed by a statue that made me pause. It was a stone carving of a raven, spectacular and detailed. The sight of it struck a chord in my chest that I desperately wanted to never feel again.  
  
Hurrying past it, fighting back tears, fighting back memories, everything from my life before, I ripped out my map and tried to focus through my swimming, blurry eyes. It shocked me how quickly that single thing could upset my emotions.  
  
 _Listen, little Raven.  
As you recede to dream haven.  
Listen to my lullaby.  
As rest lets your heart fly. _  
  
I was done with waiting for the others to wake up. Consulting my map, I stomped my way to the Common Room, pushing away memories with each step. It was hard, to push away thoughts that had once been the happiest in my life. It wasn’t like I wanted to, really; I just couldn’t handle them. Not without bawling my eyes out.  
  
I hadn’t cried since--  
  
No. I was  _not_  going there. I straightened my spine, forcefully cut off any lingering, unwanted thoughts, and took a deep calming breath. Today was for fun. For playing in the snow and hanging with friends. I wasn’t going to ruin it by bringing up dark times. I’d deal with that later.  
  
Walking through the castle, listening to my boots squeak charmingly, was nice. Simple. The sun was bright but without warmth and felt good on my head, making my ebony hair shine red and silver. It dazzled blue light-echos across my vision.  
  
Finding the Common Room was pretty easy now, but I noted mentally to have someone wander around with me so I could get the hang of remembering where all my classes were and where all the good hiding spots are. I was not going to go through this whole semester without playing Hide n’ Go Seek at least once.  
  
Finally, I ascended the steps to the portal to the Common Room and waited patiently for the Pink Lady to notice me. She was talking to another woman dressed in a black ball gown, a widow’s veil covering her face. She didn’t seem too depressed though as she was in the middle of riotous laughter that echoed through the corridors.  
  
The Pink Lady happened to be  _very_  pink as she chortled and snorted in humor. They obviously found something extremely humorous but I was at a loss. Nonetheless, I waited, hands behind my back, combat boots together, clicking the heels softly and reminding myself of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.  
  
After a while, they calmed down, giggling occastionally and sending each other knowing looks. The Pink Lady finally glanced down in my direction and noticed me, looking appalled that I was there, standing calmly and quietly.  
  
“Deary, how long have you been standing there?!” she exclaimed, hand flying to her enor- sizable chest as if truly shocked that a student would want to get into the Common Room.  
  
I debated between telling her the actual time that I’d been there (ten minutes and six seconds) or just feigning nonchalance and letting her off the hook. I chose the latter. “Just got here actually. You looked caught up so I didn’t want to intrude.” I shrugged delicately.  
  
“She’s actually been here quite a while. Though why she’s lying, I have no clue.” The woman in black gave me a beseeching look that I held levely. I was trying to save the Pink Lady’s feelings because I’d seen how some of the other students had treated her but if they wanted me to be honest, then fine.  
  
“Ten minutes and six seconds, to be exact. I wasn’t lying about the other part though; You really did look caught up and I really didn’t want to butt in. That wouldn’t be right.” The Pink Lady looked shocked and I caught the woman in black give me a look of respect. I nodded at her, almost imperceptibly and she winked.  
  
“W-well y-you-” The Pink Lady stuttered, looking a bit abashed at the situation.  
  
“It’s okay. Honest. I’m not in a hurry so it doesn’t matter.” Smiling good-naturedly, I made eye contact with the Pink Lady, waiting until she exhaled in relief and sent a grateful look towards me.  
  
“Just go on in, deary, and we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.” She smiled and swung open.  
  
A bit shell-shocked, I didn’t walk forward, “But, aren’t I supposed to give you the password? I know it, you know.” She just shook her head and told me that she knew who I was and it was repayment for making me wait so long.  
  
“Alright then…” Shrugging once more, I went forward and climbed through the portal and onto the thick, plush rug of the Common Room.  
  
\- - -  
  
It didn’t take long to wake Hermione up; though I dodged a foot or two in the process. She blinked up at me with blurry eyes, partially cross-eyed as she focused on the note taped to her forehead. Slowly and lethargically, she reached up and plucked it from her forehead with a tiny squeak. I laughed because there was a retangular spot of skin that was red from the tape being pulled off.  
  
Hermione read it, frowned, blinked hard a few times, then read it again. Relazation dawned on her features after a bit. Jeez, she was tired. It was almost enough for me to feel bad about waking her up but not really. I gave her another minute to get her bearings before bombarding her.  
  
“C’mon!” I tugged on her arm, none too gently, “There’s snow! Snow, Hermione! We can’t wait any longer. I’ve already been waiting for flipping forever!” So it was a bit of an exaggeration and Hermione gave me a look saying that she was smart enough to know that. I took it as a good sign that she was awake enough to send me a look at all, excluding the one of tiredness.  
  
“Let’s GO!” Finally tugging her into a sitting position, I ran to her trunk and threw it open, pointing demandingly down at it. “Dress.” A small grin grew on her face and she threw her legs over the edge of the bed, yawning widely, practically inducing one of my own. None of the other girls were up, even with my loud voice.  
  
Hermione stood up, scratching her head and yawning again. I huffed and rolled my eyes. Could she go any slower?  
  
“The snow is gonna  _melt_  by the time you’re done!” I stamped my foot, trying to frown at her, but my traitorous lips kept quirking at the corners. She rolled her eyes and stumbled sleepily to the trunk and peered down in it.  
  
“Fine. Since you’re taking so freakin’ long, I’m gonna go get the boys.” I flounced out of the room, resisting the urge to slam the door. I wasn’t angry but I felt the slam would go good with the appearance of rushing.  
  
The whole process of waking up Harry and Ron was even more time-consuming than Hermione, though that really didn’t surprise me to be honest. Harry was way better than Ron with the whole “being-woken-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn” thing.  
  
He was up and at his trunk before Ron was even out of bed. Ron had this whole “sliming” thing going on; He was awake enough to know that I wanted him to get up but had yet to fully comprehend the fact that he had to  _stand_  up to do that. He was half out of his bed, head hanging over at a angle that could not be comfortable.  
  
I was finally fed up enough to play dirty. Clearing my throat, I put on my best “Hermione” voice,  
  
“Ronald Weasley! Get up!” It was a pretty good mimic, if I do say so myself. Ron shot out of bed like a rocket but stumbled when his feet got tangled in the blankets. He landed in a pile of limbs and cloth with a very manly squeal of surprise. Harry and I were hanging off each other, laughing as Ron spouted a string of curses that would’ve done a sailor proud.  
  
“That was great, Ariel!” Harry said breathily, clutching his stomach. We both had tears in our eyes as Ron finally untangled himself enough to stand up. He was glaring at me, a pink tinge on his cheeks but a betraying quirk of his lips told me he wasn’t actually angry.  
  
“You play dirty, Vanderwick.” He said, near chuckling. The pink tint left his cheeks and he finally grinned.  
  
“Well you took too long.” Shrugging, I grinned wickedly and he shook his head, finally walking over to his trunk. The other boys in the quarters were stirring but still dead asleep. What was it with people at this school sleeping like the dead?  
  
Harry and Ron started to pick out what they were going to wear and I took it as my queue to leave.  
  
“Me and Hermione will meet you in the Common Room. I expect you to be there in no more than five minutes!”  
  
They took eight.  
  
Finally,  _finally_  though, I got them out of the Common Room and on our way to breakfast.  
  
They were still a bit grumbly from lack of sleep and being woken up but other than that, they were in a decent mood. We chatted idly as we strolled through the castle towards the Great Hall in a nice, friendly air. It was good, having friends, I thought.  
  
When we got to the Great Hall, we quickly settled down, Hermione and me on one side with Ron and Harry on the other. Ron, immediately heaped his plate up as did Harry while Hermione opted for a more dainty breakfast. I helped myself to another plate of pancakes and bacon and all that deliciousness.  
  
While we ate, we kept up a nice conversation, brushing over a multitude of topics including classes, Umbridge, Snape, and Quidditch which the boys were surprised to know that I was an avid fan of.  
  
I even beat Ron at a Chuddly Cannons’ Fan-Off. Hermione and Harry were laughing like no other at that one. Ron grinned recluctanctly and told me to prepare myself because we would face off again in the future and he would so win.  
  
I wasn’t threatened.  
  
Just when I was about to rip out my hair from waiting so long, they finished their breakfast (I’d finished AGES ago) and stood up, ready to go outside and play in the snow with me.


	6. The Act of Winning

The snow outside the castle doors was just as I remembered. Perfect.  
  
The white, clean fluff reflected the sun fantastically, burning my eyes in the most beautiful way possible. There was heaps and drifts ten feet high and the snow just normal level reached to the tippy tops of my boots. Grabbing my hat, scarf, and mittens out of my pocket, I stuck them on, making sure they were good and tight. Loosing one singular mitten is a bitch.  
  
I grinned deliriously and turned back to my friends who were watching me with a mixture of grins and exasperation.  
  
“C’mon! Let’s do something!” Trudging as fast as I could back to my friends (which wasn’t fast at all mind you), I grabbed Hermione’s hand and tugged her off in some direction. I needed to find the perfect place to play. The normal snow-level here was too high for any fast movement and fast movement was a given when having a major-epic-grand-exuberant snowball fight, like I planned.  
  
I finally found the perfect place. It was a field where the normal-snow had blown only to the top of my foot. It was dead in between Hagrid’s house where a black pillar of smoke rose from the chimney, the woods where medium sized snow drifts had pilled up, the lake which was still frozen over (I also planned ice skating), and the castle where gigantic snow drifts had built and merged.  
  
Stopping in the middle of the field, I turned back to my friends, hands on my hips, a triumphant grin on my face. Hermione rolled her eyes and I crinkled my nose at her and stuck out my tongue, “Non-believer.”  
  
She laughed.  
  
“Anywhoos, for all of the  _nice_  people,” I made a big show of turning to Harry and Ron, “we’re going to build snowmen! It’s going to be an epic Snowman-Off! No magic; we’re doing this all by hand.”  
  
“We’ll do it in teams of two and I was gonna do boy against girls but Hermione decided to be a non-believer so I can’t choose her. Harry, you’re with me. Ron and Hermione, you’ll be together. And no peeking!” Harry gave me a knowing look that said ‘You put them together on purpose.’ But I just raised my eyebrows delicately and shrugged my shoulders innocently. He wasn’t convinced.  
  
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, blushed, and looked away, Ron coughing awkwardly. Finally, Hermione took a deep breath and went into work-mode. She turned to Ron and relayed directions to get started.  
  
Grinning evilly, I turned to Harry who was also watching the other team. He turned towards me, “She’s going to kill him. You know that right?”  
  
“Let’s kick their butts.” I laughed and marched over to a snow drift near the woods to get started.  
  
It took a while but our snowman ended up  _killing_  theirs. Literally. Hermione and I hadn’t meant to do it on purpose but we had just been so caught up.  
  
It all started when we were in the middle of building our snowmen. Harry and I were rolling giant balls of snow for our three piece snowman when on the edge of my heightened hearing I heard Hermione murmur a spell. That cheating ho.  
  
So I decided to cheat too. Harry gaped at me openly and almost called me out on the wand work but I silenced him with a stare. He even ended up helping me think up spells that could work to our benefit. Meet my new partner in crime.  
  
We sculpted and carved and molded and finally we had a life size snow statue of Batman with a cape that blew in a non-existent wind too. Harry and I couldn’t think of anything else to make it better since it was already kick-ass, so we sat down in front of Batman and just stared at him.  
  
“How do you know about Batman?” he asked finally, tearing his eyes off of Batman to look at me.  
  
“I’m a half-blood. My mom was the magical one of my parents. Even though magic was pretty dominant in our family, they balanced the Muggle world with the Wizard one.” I shrugged, contemplating on building a smaller Robin snow-man to accompany Batman.  
  
“Was?” Harry asked quietly, still looking at me. Sighing, I turned my gaze towards him, holding his eyes levelly and replied very blankly,  
  
“I’m an orphan.” Harry’s eyes didn’t show pity. They showed a rare understanding that only another orphan could understand. He nodded, accepting the knowledge but didn’t press for the details on how it happened and I appreciated that. Most people would’ve but only someone who knew the pain of loosing both your parents knew that you didn’t want to relive the memories.  
  
Especially if they were particularly gruesome.  
  
“How long do you think they’re gonna take?” I asked referring to Ron and Hermione still working, not really caring about the answer but just to fill up the silence. I’d never been good with quiet situations. Harry just shrugged and lay back onto the snow, hands behind his head, cushioning it.  
  
So I did what I always did when faced with a long wait. I counted minutes. I knew that I could talk to Harry to fill up the time but we had an understanding moment going on and I wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it.  
  
It was comfortable with Harry. I didn’t have to talk and neither did he. I sensed that we were both completely fine with just sitting here, enjoying each others company. Hermione’s voice about scared the skin off me, considering she did it right as I was being lulled into the half-conscious state of mind when I acquired when I counted for long periods of time.  
  
“You cheater!” she raged, stomping over to me as I moved to my feet fluidly. My grace startled her for a second before she returned to her previous ranting.  
  
“’We’re doing this all by hand.’ You said. There is no way you could’ve done that without magic.” She stopped in front of me, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at me like no other. I tilted to the side so I could see behind her. Ron stood by their snowman looking at bit lost and wide-eyed.  
  
Their snowman was smaller than ours but more detailed. It was a life-sized version of the Chaser of the Chudley Cannons, Dragomir Gorgovitch. It was like he was standing right in front of me but made of snow. As I focused on his face, my attuned eyesight saw that he even had individual eye lashes. And she was calling  _me_  the cheater?  
  
So I turned my attention back to her, crossing my arms identically with hers. She was still watching me as if waiting for me to fess up. I wasn’t going to make it that easy for her.  
  
“Immobulus,” I stated. I was calling her spell out and she knew it. “The Freezing charm. Used to stop things from moving.” Hermione flushed and opened her mouth to retaliate but I plunged on ahead, cutting her off.  
  
“Duro, the Hardening charm. Used to harden the outer layer of an object” She snapped her mouth shut and stared at me. I plucked an eyebrow up.  
  
“Glaciedo, the Ice charm. Used to create a spray of crystals that hardens and morphs to ice on contact.” Hermione looked to be getting pinker and I knew it wasn’t from the cold air. It’s not like I actually meant to make her angry but it was too fun to mess with her when she knew I knew just as much as her about spell work.  
  
“Auxilium, the Supporting charm. Used to create a spirit support beam inside of an object to help hold it up.”  
  
“Caeloportus, the Carving charm. Used to slice a divot out of the-”  
  
“Stop, okay? I get it. At least I didn’t make my snowman  _move_.” She spat, looking actually pretty pissed. “Flantemos, the Moving charm?”  
  
I just smirked and quirked my eyebrow higher, which, in turn, seemed to enrage her more. Just as suddenly as her anger frown appeared, it was gone, replaced with a secretive grin that startled me for a moment before my werewolf genes got caught up at the challenge.  
  
Still looking at her, and I don’t even really know how I knew, but I had figured out what she was planning to do a second after she did. Whipping around to face her snowman, myself a second behind her turning to face my own, we raised our wands at the same time and shouted the same spell,  
  
“Vehementer Animatum!” A beam of white shot out of our wands towards our snowmen simultaneously, striking them deftly. Harry and Ron both jumped and scrambled away from the snowman they stood beside as the snowy figures twitched.  
  
The snowmen jerked and began moving on their own, twisting their arms and stretching their limbs as if stiff. Harry and Ron looked flabbergasted but Hermione and I just turned back to face the other person. We both wore super smirks as our snowmen started for each other.  
  
Batman and Gorgovitch met in the middle and began to throw punches and kicks. I grinned madly as I turned my attention from Hermione to cheer on my snowman.  
  
“C’mon Batman! Kick his ass!” I whopped and clapped as Batman pummeled Gorgovitch, cape still flapping in the magic induced wind. Hermione snorted at my cheers but none the less egged on her snowman too. Ron and Harry had come out of their stupor and cheered as well.  
  
Gorogvitch ended up kicking Batman so hard that he flew backwards a few feet, rolling head over feet in the snow. Nonetheless, the Dark knight pushed himself up and reached for one of his pockets, pulling out something or another that I didn’t remember sculpting. He started for Gorgovitch and threw the item which struck the Quidditch player as Batman was mere feet away.  
  
They blew up. Quite literally actually. The explosion knocked us off our feet and sent snow flying in all directions, coating the trio and me. The impact stunned me for a moment before I bust up laughing.  
  
My ribs ached and I had tears in my eyes as I rolled on the ground. The trio was in a similar condition, laughing merrily.  
  
When I finally pulled myself up into a sitting position, still laughing, I was able to gasp out, “We win.” Hermione snorted and began to laugh even harder. I rolled over to my hands and knees, intending to push myself up with my arms that felt very rubbery. When I was in the middle of putting my knee under myself to push up, I heard foot steps and glanced up in front of me, towards the castle.  
  
“What happened? You guys looked like something exploded all over you.” Ginny remarked, walking forward with Fred and George right next to her. That just made us laugh even harder and I lost the ability to push myself up. Finally though, I was able to wobble my way up to a standing position, grinning deliriously.  
  
“You have no idea just how right you are.” I chuckled, making Hermione snort again. Ginny and Forge had grins on their faces with eyebrows raised. I smiled happily at them.  
  
“You guys have perfect timing though.” I said as I put out my arms to help Hermione up. Ron and Harry had gotten to their feet, both still chuckling here and there.  
  
Ginny waved a hand as if to say ‘Of course we do.’  
  
Fred and George, put a hand to their lips and had a mock bashful look on their face.  
  
“Please please,”  
  
“We’re blushing.” I rolled my eyes, still smiling.  
  
“Alright losers!” Hermione gave in indignant huff which I promptly ignored. “Listen up!” I clapped my hands, and looked at them all in turn, noting how nicely Fred’s hair looked today. It was rumpled with a “just-out-of-bed” look going on. Bright orange spikes stuck up randomly and I felt my hand itch to draw my fingers through the bright stra-  
  
I’m getting distracted.  
  
“Snowball war time! Girls against boys, since I’m no longer angry at Hermione for being a non-believer. Batman made it up for it.”  
  
“Who?” Ginny said as Fred and George high-fived, identical smirks on their faces. Grabbing Hermione’s wrist, I marched up to Ginny and pulled her into my group.  
  
“Wait- the teams aren’t even.” Harry said as he looked between the groups.  
  
“Ron doesn’t count.” Ginny chortled.  
  
“Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly while we all snorted trying to hold in our laughter.  
  
“Anywhoos,” I said as I calmed down, “Here’s how it’s going down. The team last standing wins. For you guys it takes two hits to get out and since we’re a person down, it’ll take three for us. You can’t get back in and you can’t lie about how many times that you’ve gotten hit. Fred. George.” I added pointedly. They looked offended.  
  
“In fact,” I pulled out my wand, “I’m charming our coats to reflect how many times you’ve gotten hit.” I waved my wand at the boys and their coats turned a standard blue. I then, waved it towards myself and Hermione and Ginny, turning our coats red. “The coats get darker after you’ve been hit. Once it’s black, you’re out and when the game is over they’ll return to their normal color.” Hermione looked a bit impressed. I smiled.  
  
“Everybody got it?”  
  
“Does this color make me look fat?” Fred said, turning left and right to look at his back. He did have a ver-  
  
“Yes! We got it.” Harry said, stepping in front of Fred who looked offended that Harry would step in front of him like that, “You ready to get whopped, girls?” Looking from Hermione to Ginny, both of whom had cocky expressions on their face, I stepped forward and crossed my arms at the boys.  
  
“Just don’t become sore-losers after these  _girls_  kick your ass.” Jutting out my chin, I smirked.  
  
“Ready,” The boys glanced at each other. I felt Hermione and Ginny tense up at my sides. We began to slowly back away, putting distance between us and the boys.  
  
“No magic.” I quipped as I saw Ron’s hand inch towards his pocket where I knew his wand was placed. He quickly snatched his hand away, looking mildly abashed.  
  
“Set.” The boys shifted into defensive stances, keeping their hands low to the ground and ready.  
  
“And yes Fred,” I stopped backing up abruptly, “You do look fat.” His jaw dropped and he stepped forward, pointing at me accusingly about a second from retaliating.  
  
“Go!” I shouted, and shot off towards one of the giant banks near the castle walls before anyone else comprehended that the game had started. I didn’t look back, even as I heard Fred and George’s battle cry. Snow crunched and foot steps followed me, but whoever it was couldn’t keep up.  
  
I vaulted up the bank and rolled down the other side, using it as cover. Crawling back up to the top, I took in and evaluated what was going on.  
  
Hermione was sprinting after Ron, whose jacket was already a dark blue. A squealing Ginny was dodging every snowball a chasing Harry sent her way. Fred and George were making a pile of snowballs in the middle of the field, whispering quickly. I grinned wickedly.  
  
Taking two scoops of fine powder, I mashed and packed the loose crystals into a tight sphere. Repeating the process and ending up with two perfect snowballs, I turned my attention to Fred and George who had stopped making snowballs but were still huddled together.  
  
Balancing on the top of the build-up, I cocked my arm back, set my sights on the twins, and called forth my hybrid werewolf strength. Slicing my arm forward, I launched the first snowball before setting the other one up and launching it as well. The twins were a fair distance away but I had packed the snowballs tight enough and dense enough to easily travel the distance.  
  
My aim was perfect. The snowballs smashed right after the other into each of their intended targets. Fred and George were both sent sprawling to the ground, coats dimming to a navy color as they fell with their bright heads coated with snow. They whipped their head back in my direction, identical expressions of shock and incredulousness thick on their face as they sat on the ground. I wriggled my fingers and blew a kiss.  
  
Fred was up first and by the time that he had pulled George to his feet, I had already made another snowball and sent it spinning towards them. It took George straight in the face, and I heard a very manly cry of shock escape him. His coat faded to black and he sat on the ground, out of the game and unable to move until someone won.  
  
Fred whipped around to face me, grinning evilly. Turning my attention from him, I took in the condition of my team.  
  
Ginny had turned the tables on Harry, her coat gone from a candy apple red to a blood color. Harry’s coat was a navy color and he was desperately trying to escape Ginny’s snowballs as they grazed his body. Hermione and Ron were facing off, throwing snowballs left and right trying to hit the other person. Hermione had apparently been hit twice since her coat was a burgundy color.  
  
They both were desperately trying to dodge each others throws while hitting the other. My money was on Hermione. A flash of white caught my peripheral vision and turning my head, I took in several things at once.  
  
One, that Fred had gotten a lot closer to me, about ten feet away from the bottom of my hill. Two, that his hand was snowy. And three, that a snowball was a split second from ramming itself up my nose.  
  
Deftly, I stepped to the side, missing the snowball and barrel-rolled down the hill side scooping up snow as I went. In the split second that I tumbled with the snow in my hand, I cupped it into a sphere. As I turned onto my feet, I let my momentum carry me forward and used the force to pitch the snowball at Fred.  
  
He barely missed it. Damn him.  
  
“Bloody hell, Ace!” he exclaimed, drawing the attention of Ginny and Ron. Harry and Hermione had the presence of mind to use the distraction. While Ginny was focused on Fred, Harry sent two snowballs spinning towards her with reflexes that screamed he was a Seeker. They smashed into her chest and she cursed, her coat flooding black as she froze on her feet. I made a mental note to congratulate her on her vocabulary.  
  
Hermione had already sent a snowball to Ron’s face, freezing him in a one-footed stance. Poor guy. She whooped in victory but was cut off when Harry’s third snowball found a home between her shoulder blades.  
  
Crap, two against one. Luckily, I still had all three shots and all I needed to do was get one on both of them. I was more worried about Harry than Fred. With Harry’s reflexes as a Seeker, he was more likely to be the harder to hit person. Fred could throw harder and more accurately since he was a Beater but I was confident that he couldn’t touch me.  
  
“You can’t win.” I quipped, smiling, and watching the two boys in front of me as they stood in a line, sunk into defensive stances. They both smirked confidently.  
  
“I thought you could count, Ariel. It’s two against one.” Harry said.  
  
“So get three more people and it might be a fair fight.” I shot defiantly. I wasn’t sure I could beat _those_  odds, but two against one was easy.  
  
Ginny and Hermione snorted in laughter and I grinned, keeping my eyes on the boys in front of me. The corners of Fred’s mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh.  
  
“Just give up, Ace. We’re gonna end up crushing you.” Fred sang out, glancing at Harry in a secretive way. I quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“Fine. If you’re so confident, then hit me.” I rose from my defensive stance and crossed my arms across my chest, nonchalantly. Both Harry and Fred looked at me like I was crazy.  
  
Hermione gasped and I smirked as they still didn’t move. Harry’s shocked expression faded and he reached to the ground, scooped up snow, packed it in, and sent it flying towards my head. His aim was pretty nice, speed moderate, form a bit off. Tilting my head to the right, I let the snowball zoom by, missing me by a few comfortable inches.  
  
Harry looked shocked and I giggled, reaching down to scoop a snow up, packing it in slowly.  
  
“You won’t hit me.” I spoke to my snowball, knowing that Harry and Fred knew I was talking to them. Looking up through my lashes, I watched, waiting for Fred to have his go. I didn’t have to wait long.  
  
Running towards me, he stooped to the ground, scooping up snow as he closed in. I shot to my left and sprinted away, putting distance between me and him. I heard footsteps following me and on instinct, twirled to the side. A snowball passed close. Hearing Fred swear loudly, I giggled, glancing behind me.  
  
Harry and Fred were both plucking up a bit of snow, to make to hit me with. In one motion, I spun on my heel, sending my snowball flying towards them before twirling back a hundred and eighty degrees to run away some more.  
  
I heard Harry curse but didn’t look back, increasing my speed and curving around to my right. Leap frogging over George, I laughed as he cried out in protest.  
  
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” I giggled, running away from the indignant red-head. I needed a plan. Glancing over to my left, I saw my answer.  
  
The pile of snowballs that Fred and George had been making stood alone, neither Fred nor Harry near it. Skidding to a stop, I changed my direction towards the pile, hearing faintly, someone gasp and footsteps pounding towards my direction. I sped up, flying over the pale fluff, kicking up chunks every step.  
  
Running felt good. My legs and arms pumped smoothly, my heart racing but my breathing relatively smooth. Adrenaline pumped in my veins and I grinned insanely, almost to the pile of my salvation.  
  
Glancing to my left, where the footsteps were coming from, I saw Fred racing towards the pile too. He looked at me, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and a lopsided grin on his face. It almost made me loose my running concentration as I felt my stomach clench at the smile. Shaking myself mentally, I winked at him and put on a last burst of speed, reaching the pile with steps to spare.  
  
“Bullocks!” Fred skidded to a stop, and turned in the other direction, running back towards my hill. I quickly grabbed up a snowball and hurled a snowball towards him. He rolled on instinct and the snowball sailed over his head. Nonetheless, I pitched another one before picking up two more and starting off after him.  
  
I was faster than he was and as I caught up with him, my arm cocked back and heaved an icy sphere towards him, missing by inches. He yelped and began to climb up my hill, slipping and sliding a bit. He got the top of the hill right as I got to the bottom of it. Climbing the pile much more quickly than he did, I reached him right as he was able to stand up fully and turn around, checking to see how far I was.  
  
He cried out as I plowed into him, hand smashed flat against his chest, squishing the snowball to it, his jacket darkening to black. The force of my plowing sent us both over the crest of the hill and down the side, rolling and tangling limbs.  
  
We skidded to the bottom, halfway into another drift. I was sprawled out on top of Fred, dizzy from the tumble. After the world and snow settled, I glanced at Fred’s surprised face before busting up laughing.  
  
I dropped my face to his neck as I laughed, tears building in my eyes, sides aching, cheeks hurting from smiling. Fred laughed with me, wrapping his arms around my waist and squeezing as he roared. Gradually our laughter faded, with both of us chuckling and giggling occasionally.  
  
Lifting my head up from his neck, I smiled widely at him. Inside his arms, it was warm. His chest was firm and hard, telling me all about the muscles that hid underneath the black fabric.  
  
Ooo, muscles.  
  
In the back of my mind, I noticed his smell, familiar and nice. Pine and apple and cinnamon mixing together to be clean, sharp, and sweet without being over-powering or awkward. His arms held me tightly and securely, a heavy, comfortable weight on my lower back.  
  
We were flush up together, no space between us. The bottom of my boots came to the middle of his shin, one of my legs between his. It wasn’t awkward being this close to him. At all really. It was warm and nice and I felt happy, safe.  
  
His hair stood out fantastically in the snow, even though it was dusted with powder. His cerulean eyes twinkled with laughter as he watched my face. This close, I could count his freckles and I noted again, the rouge one that set him apart from George.  
  
I smiled wider as he grinned lopsidedly and dropped my head to his neck again, moving my arms to squeeze around his waist, hugging him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his Adam ’s apple bob. After a second, I moved my arms and pushed myself up, moving my leg out of his and sitting on his stomach, straddling it.  
  
Splaying my fingers on what I guess to be his pecks, I looked down at him, hair falling to curtain our faces.  
  
“So,” I smirked, “Guess whose jacket is black and whose jacket is still normal color?” He rolled his eyes, still grinning and refused to look at me. That’s okay.  
  
“You don’t have to guess. All you have to do is repeat after me.” I shrugged like it was no big deal and tried to put a friendly look on my face but couldn’t keep an evil twinkle in my eyes that he no doubt saw.  
  
He huffed and looked back at me, trying desperately not to grin, the corners of his mouth twitching traitorously.  
  
“Fine.” He said, overly-cheery.  
  
“I, Fred Weasley,” I started.  
  
“I, Fred Weasley,” he repeated, mockingly raising his voice to a false falsetto to mimic me.  
  
I flicked his nose and pouted.  
  
“My voice does not sound like that.” He grinned and stuck out his tongue. In a flash, I had his tongue plucked between my fingers, holding it deftly.  
  
“Ey! Hat wah that thor?” Fred complained, struggling to pull his tongue back into the relative safety of his mouth.  
  
“Hereby decree,” I went on, ignoring his struggle. He glared at me before trying to repeat what I said.  
  
“Heweby degwee,” Jeez, this was hilarious.  
  
“That Ariel Vanderwik, half-veela extraordinaire,”  
  
“Hat Aiweel Wandewwik, halth-weela ethordinair,” Fred’s cheeks had tinted a bit pink by now but I wasn’t done just yet.  
  
“Superior B.A.M.F. to one Fred Weasley, now and forevermore,” I prompted.  
  
“Thopewiow Amth oo one Wed Wethlay, now an thowewoore,” I had to fight to keep down my giggles.  
  
“Shall hold power and station over me as Prankster Royalty.” I finished, watching Fred’s eyes widen before narrowing to slits as he begrudgingly repeated the last bit. It wasn’t like I was going to do tons of pranks but I knew I was going to end up doing more than the average person.  
  
As he finished, I let his tongue go and he quickly clamped his mouth shut, tongue safe once again.  
  
“You are an evil, evil person Ariel Vanderwik.” He muttered. I just grinned and blew him a kiss before getting up off his stomach. Brushing off my tights, I got out my wand and waved it at my coat, turning it its normal gray.  
  
Turning, I walked out from behind the drift, glancing over my coat for any missed snow.  
  
“Hey! Where are you going?” Fred exclaimed, struggling to get up. Unfortunately for him, he was still frozen from loosing the war.  
  
“Starting my reign.” I replied innocently, before winking at him and leaving him completely. I made quick work of unfreezing the other players and turning their coats to normal. Harry had a bright pink spot on his face from being smashed into the snow for so long.  
  
“Jeez Ariel, you’ve got a wicked arm.” Ron said, massaging his thigh. It must hurt from having to hold the one footed position for so long.  
  
“Thanks.” I said, smiling.  
  
“Why don’t you try out for Chaser?” Harry asked. Everyone nodded in agreement.  
  
I shrugged, “The only new players they need are Beaters really. Jack Sloper is horrendous.” George snickered. “And I know Ginny wants to be Chaser so…” I trialed off.  
  
“I’ll play you for it.” She said, holding out her hand.  
  
I raised my hands in a non-threatening gesture, “Oh-no. You want to be Chaser. I’m fine on the side-lines.”  
  
“No. Let’s go head to head. A friendly match for who gets to be Chaser. I’m sure with your reflexes, you could easily make Seeker if I was made Chaser.” She wiggled her fingers, grinning good-naturedly.  
  
“Okay…” I said, uneasily, clasping her hand and shaking it. She grinned and put her arm around my shoulders.  
  
“The next practice is Wednesday so we’ll face-off then. I promise not to kill you  _too_  badly.”  
  
I snorted, “Yeah right. Prepare to stay Seeker, Ginny.” I turned my head to the rest of the group, “Let’s go. I’m starving and the losers owe us foot massages.”  
  
“Hey! When did that become part of the deal?!” Ron exclaimed, nonetheless trudging after us. I looped my arm with Hermione’s and together, us three girls strolled back to the castle, eager for warmth, food, and foot massages.  
  
“Hey, where’s Fred?”


	7. The Act of Defying

The rest of my first weekend at Hogwarts was fantastic.  
  
Eventually, George went back and got Fred after we’d all had lunch (he was a bit peeved about being left for so long). Hermione and Ginny decided that since I got three out of four of the other team out, that I deserved extra treatment. That meant I got both a foot-rub  _and_  a shoulder rub from the Twins. If the whole ‘joke-shop’ didn’t work out for George and Fred, they would make excellent masseuses.  
  
Seriously.  
  
I got goose-bumps.  
  
It was a bit humorous to watch Ron blush furiously at rubbing Hermione’s feet and Ginny smirk victoriously while wiggling her toes in Harry’s face to catch his attention. Me and her even fist-bumped I’m sad to say. It was cool at the moment but after it, we froze, looked at each other and nodded in understanding.  
  
“Never again.” She said. I snickered and agreed.  
  
After the  _fantastic_  massages, Ron talked me into playing chess with him. He was much more of a challenge than Hermione and our game ended up taking two hours. Everybody that was watching when the game started had drifted off sometime around the time that I took Ron’s Knight from E9.  
  
It took a lot of brainpower, strategizing, complaints, and frustration before someone won out. That happened to be me with two pieces to spare. Ron about flipped the board over and spewed a curse that would’ve made his mother (whom I learned was a very formidable woman) cuff him into next year, bring him back, then do it again. I complimented him on it.  
  
I felt a bit mentally drained after the match but I agreed to help Fred and George with some products. Not that I actually  _helped_  per say but that’s beside the point.  
  
What I do though, was use Fred’s forced declaration that I held power and status over him to my benefit. I started small; asking (well, really more like  _demanding_ ) that he give me a piggy-back ride to the Room of Requirement. Along the way, I told George all about Fred’s declaration and had him snorting in laughter. I made a point to remember the direction of the Room though.  
  
It was left, left, right, left, right, right, up a staircase, right, and then another left. Or maybe it was left, left, right, left, right, left, up a staircase, right, then left. Whatever. I’m gonna start leaving a trail of freaking bread crumbs if I can’t get a handle on these directions.  
  
To get back at me, Fred, when he lowered me to the ground in front of the Room of Requirement’s door, made a big scene about clutching his chest, doubling over, hands on his knees like he was dying of a heart-attack. I swatted him for a being a jerk.  
  
“Douche.” I had quipped while he grinned wryly.  
  
I spent the rest of the day with Fred and George, watching them go about making potions and taking notes and planning product designs and plotting world domination; you know. Normal stuff. I just laid down on a counter-top, playing with the Pygmy Puff that I’d begged Fred and George to let me cuddle with. I had named Lafayette unbeknownst to Fred and George.  
  
Lafayette seemed to like it.  
  
I still helped though. There actually came a point where I was needed. Of course, it was to put out George’s robe because he’d caught it on fire. God only knows how though. The flame for the cauldron was turned off and he’d been in the middle of the room. Fred didn’t seem too particularly freaked-out about the incident so I concluded that spontaneous combustion was a natural and fairly-often occurrence for them.  
  
After that  _spontaneous_  incident, Fred and George kept up a steady stream of questions, asking about the potions and joke and product ideas. I doodled in the air with my wand while answering them, keeping both me and Lafayette entertained.  
  
I even conjured a little neon blue headband for Lafayette. It squished his fluff down and made the top of him poof up like a mad-scientist. It was so freaking adorable, you don’t even know. He piped and rolled around which I took as a good sign and that he liked it. For a while after that, I tried to doodle the sight in the air with my wand but only succeeded in creating some sort of blob thing that did not do Lafayette  _any_  justice. He seemed to take it offensive that my drawing ability was not up to par.  
  
Luckily it didn’t create a rift in our relationship. I don’t really remember anything after I’d finished doodling though. I’d been cuddling with Lafayette, humming a Muggle song that for some reason was stuck in my head (Eye of the Tiger if you can believe it) when I guess I’d just drifted off. It’d had to be around 9:00 then and I guess the days events just tired me out. Winning and kicking-ass in a snowball war is tough work.  
  
I woke up the next morning in my bed with my rubber boots still on, scarf choking me, and Lafayette burrowed into my hat, making little Pygmy Puff snores. Cutest thing ever. I’d groggily got dressed, putting my shirt on backwards I think, but it was just a fitted t-shirt with a high collar so it didn’t matter much.  
  
I didn’t do much that day other than curl up in front of the fire place. Ron was still spitting angry about me beating him and had even stolen Hermione’s book, “The Art of Strategy”. Everybody else was working on homework, or something just as boring.  
  
While Ron was reading, Hermione had been doing some research for this group that she had made. S.P.E.W. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. She had yet to go on one of her House elf abuse tirades with me but I knew it was just a matter of time. To me, if those guys were happy scrubbing dishes and wiping windows, then have at it. Sure I didn’t like how some of them were treated so I could see where Hermione was going with it all but that didn’t mean I wanted to try to change a majority of their nature.  
  
Harry was trying, and failing, to do his homework. Mostly he would just scribble a word or two, sigh, then stare into the fire for ages before blinking rapidly like he was astounded that he had drifted off (again) then start the process over again. It was entertaining for the first ten minutes but then it just got boring.  
  
Ginny was with a group of Quidditch players in the corner, all of whom were looking over a slip of parchment avidly. I was guessing that the slip of paper had plays and all that important jazz on it because they all had looks on their faces that said they were trying to memorize something. She was obviously a no-go for a time-passer-by-er person.  
  
Even Fred and George couldn’t help as they were stuck with all-day detention from Filtch. Poor saps. I’d heard all of the horror stories about the boys’ time with him. Trust me, they were horrible.  
  
So, like I said, I curled up in front of the fire place. I had a few pillows to prop me up, my feet close enough to the fire to get toasty but not close enough to singe my little toes, Lafayette was tucked under the curtain of my hair under my jaw, and I had a fantastic book to read, curtsey of Ginny and her wicked sense of humor. It was a great day to just kick back and read which was exactly what I did.  
  
It was oddly peaceful in the Common Room, even though there were a majority of the Gryffindors there. I had Hermione, Ron, and Harry sitting around me on the couches, just content in each others presence (even though Ron was nursing a hurt ego).  
  
Maybe loosing that calm, peace of mind feeling is what made Monday so terrible.  
  
It wasn’t that the whole day was terrible, just the last bit. The “Detention with Umbridge” part but I’ll get to that later.  
  
Since the classes switched back and forth and I had Umbridge on Friday, I had class Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, Divination, and Herbology today. Not all my favorite classes but I could deal with that.  
  
Neither Fred nor George had approached me to reclaim Lafayette, so I kept him close to me the whole day, either in my coat pocket (always being careful to not squish him) or on my shoulder, hidden by my hair, which was coming in pretty handy.  
  
In Care of Magical Creatures, I did my usual thing. I hung in the back of the class and petted Fang who was very interested in Lafayette. Hagrid showed us Grindylow’s which were in cool spherical water orbs that floated a few feet above the ground.  
  
They sucked. And were mean.  
  
I had accidentally passed too close to one and it had pointed, hissed, then swirled around in agitation and I’m pretty sure if it could talk human it’d had been like “Omg, what the fridge, what is that abomination doing here?” and I would’ve been like “Hey, shut the fridge up! No body loves you.”  
  
But it couldn’t speak human, so I was saved that conversation. But seriously, it  _pointed_  at me. That’s just rude.  
  
History of Magic was made a bit better by Lafayette. Since Professor Binns was oblivious to the class when he lectured, it was pretty much just free reign to do whatever I wanted as long as I didn’t move much and didn’t make any loud noises. Lafayette rolled around on my desk (nearly falling off a time or two) and I was completely fine to watch him for the class period. We played paper football which pretty much consisted of him pushing the ball into my hand, doodled at which time I coated his little feet in ink and watched as he bounced around the parchment, and I had him pose to help me practice my drawing skills.  
  
Note: It’s much easier to draw on paper than it is in air. For all future references.  
  
The only real exciting thing to happen in History of Magic was Seamus Finnagin falling asleep. Rather loudly too. Professor Binns had to call his name seven and a half times, each call progressively louder, to wake him up. The whole class was giggling up a storm by then, and the incident seemed even funnier than it would have normally because we were all starving for some type of stimulation in the fun-deprived classroom. Seamus fixed that. A little bit at least.  
  
After learning about the Great Goblin Wars and Chief Bonecrusher, who it was said to have eaten the hearts of a thousand men (You’d think it would’ve been interesting to have learned this stuff but Professor Binns mono-tone voice could suck the interesting out of anything), I had to suffer through Divination.  
  
Professor Trelawney was a real loon but almost entertaining in some way. The incense, while incredibly strong, dulled my senses to a point of a normal humans and it was nice not having to hear each individual quill-scratch or inhale/exhale of breath from the other people in the room. The only reason I didn’t drop the class for something more exciting was because of that.  
  
A little break from my senses was nice sometimes and did wonders for my irritation level. The feeling normally stayed with me until the end of Herbology which was fantastic because the Professor Sprout green-thumb charmed plants (pretty much the Batman’s and Superman’s of the plant world) were killer on my nose and eyes.  
  
Normal plants didn’t usually bother my senses too much but the plants that Professor Sprout grew, I swear were on steroids because it felt like each individual pollen particle in the world was trying to find a place in my sinuses when I stepped into the green houses.  
  
So, I kept Divination, which I also found out that I have a talent for bullshitting the homework on. Ron and Harry told me all about what they do for their homework and I usually sit down with the two and think up ideas (all of them included some type of grisly death).  
  
Since Herbology was fun (when I wasn’t sneezing my head off), I didn’t feel the need to wing my homework. I actually paid attention to the professor in the class, understood the homework, and finished it on time with minimal problems. The problems being the fact that I practically had to fight this girl in the library for the book I needed.  
  
I didn’t fight her per say but I did use an intimidation strategy that works quite well actually. Let’s just say, I got the book pretty easily after that.  
  
So, all in all, a pretty good day. All my homework was done, I was in a relatively good mood from getting the book, and nobody was fighting. Ron had gotten over his bruised ego and now was in a much more sociable mood, even playing chess with me again, though the air was much friendlier than it was the first time. Hermione was reading quietly, popping comments into the conversation here and there. Harry was watching Ron and I play, cracking jokes about our abilities. I was happy.  
  
Until the clock struck eight. It was like I was Cinderella at the ball, happy as a clam, before hearing the clock sound midnight. The sound reverberated in my chest, knocking out all previous euphoria and replacing it with anger and irritation at the reason. Ron, Harry, and Hermione all stopped what they were doing and looked at the clock intensely before looking at me.  
  
I stood up, keeping my face carefully blank, and tugged on my combat boots. They watched as I laced tied them in silence, all knowing what fate I was being subjected to. When I was done, I stood up straighter, smiled the best I could at them, and turned to the portal. Hermione’s voice stopped me.  
  
“We’ll wait up for you.” She said, smiling sadly.  
  
I shook my head, smile becoming a bit less forced at the declaration, “It’s okay. I’ll be back before you know it. This isn’t that big of a deal.”  
  
Hermione opened her mouth, frowning a bit, but I held up a hand and stopped her:  
  
“Please? I’ll be alright. You don’t need to wait up.” Then I walked away.  
  
All the other 5th years who had been in the class with me when I shouted, stared at me as I made my way out of the Common Room, knowing also that I was walking to a torture session. They had all given a sense of approval for my rant but knew that I was going to pay for that small victory. Even a few of the people out of my class were staring at me.  
  
Seemed like everybody knew.  
  
The walk to her office was too short and too dark. Normally at eight, the castle was relatively bright, but for some reason it felt like I was wading through shadows, impending doom crushing my lungs. Not exactly a fun feeling.  
  
My boots made soft thuds as I walked, keeping a simple rhythm playing in my mind. As I walked, I grew angrier. Was I really walking to a detention where I was to  _mutilate_  myself for the sadistic enjoyment of an old hag who was butting in on the best time of my life? The answer made bile rise in my throat.  
  
But I couldn’t do anything about it. I was supposed to be good and throwing a fit and beating up a teacher wasn’t exactly a favorable idea. Making an issue with her was making an issue with the Ministry and unneeded problems for Dumbledore. The only thing I could do was something that wasn’t even directed particularly at her.  
  
Joining the D.A. was the only piece of revenge I could take against her and I’ll be damned if I was going to let her ruin it. I couldn’t do anything directly at her right now, but I was content (hardly) with doing this.  
  
I’d throw myself into the meetings, putting more effort and hard-work into them than I did normal classes. I’d participate in everything  _she_  banned and take pleasure in doing so. She would not ruin this place for me. She would not ruin my friends for me. And she would definitely not break me.  
  
***  
  
Her office was more horridly pink than she was. The beautiful slate grey stone had been painted over with a dark pastel pink, before being followed up with portraits upon portraits upon portraits of cats, magically glued to the stone. I could practically feel it crying and felt as if I had Apparated straight into a Pepto-Bismol bottle.  
  
She had an oval-esk dark cherry wood desk in the middle of the room than gleamed as if it was polished with orphan tears everyday. It was intricly carved with floral fluff and vines and the leg ends were carved into paws. There was a glass cabinet of the same dark wood to the left, a student desk a bit to the left in front of her desk topped with a dark red quill and some parchment.  
  
She sat in behind her desk, plump and vile. Grinning sweetly, though the smile held no warmth, she gestured wordlessly towards the student table in front of her, holding the demonic quill. I said nothing and stood up straighter, face blank. I showed no emotion and I wouldn’t. She would not get to me, she would not defeat me.  
  
As I sat down, she tittered disapprovingly, hand flying to cover her mouth daintily, “Oh dear, those boots are dreadful and completely off school uniform. They won’t do in the future Miss Vanderwik.” I said nothing. Just closed my eyes for a brief second, grateful that my bangs could hide my face before opening them and tipping my head back up.  
  
I picked up the quill, resisting the urge to crush it to splinters in my hand, and looked at her, waiting. She didn’t seem to like that I hadn’t said a word. Good.  
  
She finally coughed lightly, and shifted her attention to the papers in front of her, shuffling them into pristine order. She talked to them, never turning her eyes from the leaflets, but I knew she was speaking to me.  
  
“You are here because you were disrespectful and refused to listen to my orders. That must stop. Hopefully the next fourteen detention periods will help to rectify that horrible personality disfigurement. You will do lines until I tell you to stop. You will write ‘I must control my temper.’”  
  
Saying nothing, I turned my attention to the paper in front of me and positioned my quill to start writing. I had just touched the quill to the parchment when Umbridge stopped me.  
  
“Wait! That’s not all Miss Vanderwik. You did more than not control your temper. You must also write, ‘I must obey my superiors.’ and ‘I must respect my elders.’ in that order. The quill will know what to do. Hopefully with all those reminders you will do much better in the future.” Then waved her hand, as if motioning me to get started.  
  
I was at a loss for a second. I had seen Harry’s scars and a multitude of others but all of those had been one line. I had to write  _three_? The quill creaked a little in my tightening grip.  
  
Fine. A little more pain never hurt. Well, it did but you get my point. Taking a deep breath, I put quill to paper and began my lines.  
  
The sensation started slowly, a burning stinging feeling that itched at the back of my mind, before becoming dreadfully apparent by the time I was halfway through my second segment. I felt a ghost scalpel carve words into the soft skin of the back of my hand.  
  
At first they were just vibrant red lines but slowly they sunk in, breaking the first layer of skin and increasing the burning tenfold. I hadn’t seen blood yet but it was only a matter of time. My nerves were screaming at me. Screaming, burning, pleading. The pain was minimal from my changes but it still hurt nonetheless.  
  
Nothing that would make me cry out though. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.  
  
It was worse for me though, since I was a hybrid. My ability to heal faster was kicking in and I was carving over fresh, new nerves that the ability was creating. The new nerves were tenderer than normal ones so the pain spiked. I was constantly destroying everything the healing ability was recreating, doing more damage and more pain with every stroke.  
  
The back of my hand was full of bright red, painful words, that weren’t my own. My neat, curly scrawl mocked me. The words were clearly visible and always would be in the same lines, same even spaces, until my skin was nothing but dust.  
  
When I got through with the third completion of lines, the blood started.  
  
It trickled slowly from the words carved into my skin. The tendrils were thin, breaking off from fat buds that covered the wounds. Soon, the words were nearly unintelligible but I could still see where the ghost knife ran through the blood to the meat of my hand to carve just that much deeper.  
  
I don’t know how long I wrote, I had to keep my mind focused on a rhythm to keep from chucking the quill in Umbridge’s froggy face. I counted taps of my foot. I would’ve done fingers but moving anything on my right hand sent a shock of pain up to my eyeball. My left hand, despite the soon-to-be searing pain, was steady and fluent, betraying the sensations crawling up my right arm and into my chest.  
  
The pain wasn’t just in my hand anymore. It was getting bigger and bigger, making its way up my forearm, little pricks on every nerve it grew past. The pain radiated from my hand with each beat of my pulse, so I took deeper breaths and focused more on counting to keep that pulse down.  
  
My hand was nearly coated with blood now, as it was flowing steadily from the demonic words. The parchment before me was filled with even lines of identical words, all red. All of my blood. All slowly growing a red-brown of dried blood. Only the newest lines were bright red and shiny.  
  
There was a growing puddle of warm, sticky blood under my hand when Umbridge finally had me stop. She feigned surprise. The bitch.  
  
“Oh dear! It seems I kept you past the normal time. You simply were so quiet, I forgot you were there. Make more noise next time, deary.” She smiled sweetly as if she hadn’t just kept me longer to carve even deeper into my hand. Scowling, I got up without a word, tossing the quill over the red coated parchment and turn towards the door, fighting the sweeping dizziness with each step. I had to dig my heels into the carpet to keep from swaying.  
  
Her voice stopped me, “Also, fifteen points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew. Try not to drip blood in the corridors, will you?”  
  
The door slammed behind me.  
  
It was eerily; the corridors were dark and shadowy, echoing each individual drop of my blood. The sound echoed around my senses, strangely loud in the silence. Every step I took made my hand throb in pain and I clenched my teeth, fighting it down. I felt like being vindictive and squeezing blood out on the floor, specifically disobeying Umbridge’s orders but vetoed the idea by several reasons.  
  
One, it wasn’t the castles fault.  
  
Two, I respected the castle more than I hated her (though the difference was quickly depleting).  
  
And three, it would’ve hurt like a sonofabitch.  
  
So I didn’t do it.  
  
Fighting the pain, dizziness, and anger, I walked briskly back to the Gryffindor Tower; the warm cozy Common Room calling my name. The Fat Lady gazed down sadly at me so I plucked up a big smile, feigning nonchalance.  
  
She didn’t seem convinced. When I got through the opening, I couldn’t say that I was very surprised to find Hermione, Harry, and Ron still up. What did surprise me though, was the presence of Fred, George, and Ginny. I hadn’t known they were in on my detentions.  
  
When I climb through the portal, I was greeted with the smiles of friends and I smiled right back, until their eyes dropped towards my dripping hand. Hermione gasped, and I quickly hid it behind my back, feeling ashamed for some reason.  
  
“It looks worse than it is, I promise.” A particularly sharp throb from my right hand told me that wasn’t the case. Hermione stepped towards me, hand outstretched and I back away a little, not wanting her to see it. I was  _fine_. She frowned and took another step towards me, Ginny following her up. I didn’t move but let them approach me, feeling foolish for being difficult. The rest of the boy’s faces were impassive but I didn’t pay attention to them.  
  
Hermione and Ginny stood shoulder to shoulder in front of me, waiting. Wordlessly, I pulled my hand from behind my back and held it a bit before them, watching their faces anxiously. Their expressions didn’t change but I saw a small shudder work its way through Hermione.  
  
She reached to grab it but I pulled back, saying anxiously, “It’s all bloody. You don’t want to touch my internal fluids, do you?” Making light on the situation a bit. The corners of Ginny’s mouth twitched a bit but she didn’t full out smile.  
  
I blinked hard, trying to fight the black dots that seemed to trickle in my eye site, my head feeling cold. I leaned against the siding of the portal entrance to balance myself a bit and Hermione noticed.  
  
“Go sit down on the couch, We’ll bring something to help you.” Nodding, she smiled, looking strong. I smiled at her, a real smile, ignoring the consistent pain erupting from my limb.  
  
“Thanks, Hermione. And Ginny.” I said, pushing away from the siding with my shoulder, bumping my hand a bit in the process. Hissing out a breath slowly to keep from yelping, I watched Hermione and Ginny hurry up the girls’ staircase.  
  
I smiled tiredly at the boys and made my way over to the couch, plopping down (gently) in the middle of it, placing my wounded hand gently over my unhurt one, making sure I didn’t get blood on my skirt. The wound was still bleeding a bit but most of the outer blood was congealing. The guys followed me, Harry and Ron taking seats to my left and right and Fred and George sitting in front of me, cross-legged.  
  
“She kept you there longer than she does normally.” Harry said after a moment, glancing at my red hand. The boys had been all politely looking away from it, trying not to draw attention to the wound but I knew it was hard since my hand was bright freaking red. I admired their attempts.  
  
I nodded, “She said she had forgotten I was there. That I should make more noise next time.” All of the guys had equal expressions of disgust on their face but George nonetheless grinned a bit.  
  
“You didn’t make any sound at all?” Sounding a bit impressed, I laughed, grinning at him.  
  
“That old hag won’t get the best of me so easily.” Smirking and feeling a bit better from the banter, I smiled at them all and they looked relieved to have the atmosphere a bit lighter. Hearing footsteps, I turned my head to find Ginny and Hermione hurrying down the stairs with a roll of bandages and two bowls, one containing what looked like warm water with a rag in it and the other a yellowy murky substance that smelled faintly fishy.  
  
Harry and Ron moved from their spots by my sides and opted to sit down on either side of Fred and George. Ginny and Hermione took the vacated seats, Ginny to my left, unharmed hand and Hermione to my right, mangled hand. Thus began the cleaning process.  
  
Hermione, since she had the bowl of water with the rag, took said rag out and wrung it, making sure it wasn’t dripping everywhere. She then took my wrist, above where the blood ended, and began gently wiping around the wound, slowly working her way closer to the words. She cleaned off my fingers, which were coated and slick, and over my palm. She wiped until she had a square of red across the back of my hand.  
  
The pain hadn’t stopped but the warm water was helping a bit. Plus getting all the dried blood, while not decreasing the pain, immensely raised my mood. All that blood wasn’t exactly a grand site.  
  
I saw her glance up at me, as if telling me with her eyes that this was going to hurt a bit. I smiled encouragingly.  
  
“It’s okay.” I told her, “I’m a badass a little stinging isn’t going to kill me.” She rolled her eyes but nonetheless grinned at my antics. Hoping to lighten the dark mood, I turned to Ginny, removing my eyes from watching Hermione wipe blood off my skin.  
  
“Just because my hand is a bit worse for the wear, doesn’t mean you’re getting out of the play-off you promised me.” Looking pointedly at her, I tried to keep a serious face off but was thwarted when she laughed, making me laugh in turn.  
  
“As if. You wouldn’t be fit for Gryffindor Chaser or even Quidditch if you couldn’t handle a few scratches.” She quipped, sticking her tongue at me. I mirrored her actions and heard the guys laugh a bit.  
  
“So Harry, when’s the next meeting? I’m dying to go.” I looked to Harry, trying not to wince as Hermione dribbled water onto the wounds directly. The warm water may feel nice on the skin _surrounding_  the words but definitely not on the raw flesh themselves.  
  
“I was thinking Wednesday if the practice wasn’t too hard for you guys.” I nodded and tried to think of something else to keep the conversation going. The whole awkward dark feeling was definitely not raising my mood any.  
  
I opened my mouth to say something when Hermione’s gasp stopped me. We all looked at her. She was sitting, holding my hand with the cloth blocking it from view.  
  
“What?” I asked, a bit nervous. I was waiting for her to say something along the lines of “The quill sliced through all your bones and tendons and now you’ll never be able to use your hand again!” or something equally as dire. She didn’t but said something that was somehow more chilling.  
  
“Three?” she seemed to be asking me. Maybe it was the tone of her voice or maybe the look in her eye, but I snatched my hand away, ignoring the sharp spiral of pain that rolled its way up my arm.  
  
“It’s really not that bad, Hermione.” I stood up from the couch, knocking Fred and George back. They seemed surprised.  
  
“I’m going to finish this up myself. Thank you for the help.” Trying to make my escape up the stairs, I was thwarted when I felt a warm hand grip my upper right arm, stopping me from leaving.  
  
“Let me see it.” Fred said softly. His grip wasn’t hard; I could’ve easily pulled away if I wanted to and he didn’t tug my arm to let him see my hand. He just stayed motionless until after a bit, I released my right hand from my left, letting it drop slowly down to my side.  
  
He hesitated, and I kept my back toward them, eyes facing the staircase. Then, Fred gently, raised my arm back, never touching my hand, but keeping warm fingers right above the wrist. Only when he had my palm, facing the ground, did he touch lower than my wrist. He moved to clasp my fingers in his, turning my wrist so it was vertical with the ground, letting him see the words carved into my flesh right side up.  
  
I felt his fingers trace down my thumb and back up to trace my top knuckles comfortingly. I knew the skin was blotchy and red from the irritation. I knew it because I could feel it. The skin of the back of my hand felt too tight and too warm, searingly hot actually. And while I knew Fred’s fingers were warm, once they got to the irate skin of my hand, they began to feel mercifully cool.  
  
He pulled gently on my arm, making me look at him. And I did. The light of the fire casted shadows over his front, blocking out details of his face. Fred pulled on my arm again, and I went to him, letting him encase me in a hug, cradling my mangled hand in my left one, and keeping it safe between our bodies.  
  
He didn’t squeeze me. Just wrapped his arms loosely around me. And it was enough.  
  
I wasn’t use to people caring about me. Sure, I remembered that I have actually had people care since my parents only died when I was ten, but even before that. They weren’t the greatest parents. And the Mistress in the orphanage, while nice, wasn’t exactly the best care-taker.  
  
When I got hurt, I cleaned it myself. I never told anyone I was in pain, and I took care of myself. I couldn’t count on anyone to help me.  
  
I was a werewolf. Who would understand that and be willing to help? I tried not to let it control my life, since I wasn’t  _just_  a werewolf, but sometimes it was hard. Like I was lying about half of me, even though it wasn’t strictly lying.  
  
But who would care about a werewolf, hearing the stories you did about them? Harry and Ron and Hermione and all them, seemed bigger than that. I knew for a fact that Harry had done some astounding things, surely he wouldn’t be prejudice to werewolves. And Hermione was the whole S.P.E.W. thing going on, so she must have compassion for house elves and werewolves alike.  
  
It occurred to me then, that I  _wanted_ , for god knows what reason, to tell them. Tell them about me. All about me. Maybe not my sob-story about my life, which could come later, but that I was a werewolf.  
  
But how would I go about that? I knew that I shouldn’t tell them now, but later. When we had more time between us. I’d tell all of them. Willingly.  
  
Figuring that out, I felt something lift from me. Knowing that I had a chance to be accepted made me feel normal for once in a long time. I pulled back from Fred and looked at him, an unconscious smile on my face. He smiled back too, and led me back over to the couch.  
  
Ginny got up from her spot, yellowy bowl still in her hand, and say beside George. Fred pulled me along and sat me back down in my old spot, taking Ginny’s at the same time. Feeling calmer and less ashamed of my hand, I held it out for them to see. Blood had welled up and trickled a bit from it but it looked like most of the bleeding had stopped.  
  
Harry, Ron, George, and Ginny stared at it for a second, their expressions growing dark.  
  
“That old wanker made you write a bloody book on the back of your hand, Ariel,” Ron said quietly. I waited, since the tone of his voice told me he was going to say more. “And you  _still_ didn’t make a noise?”  
  
I froze, an incredulous expression on my face as Ron’s grew into a tiny smile. Then, after a second, I started laughing. And I couldn’t stop! All the stress and anger and even some of the pain, melted from me, laughing wiping my frustrations clear. My laughter startled everyone a bit but after a while, they joined in too.  
  
So we laughed. I may have just gotten back from a torture session that I was going to have to relive for the next two weeks but hey, I’d get through it. Umbridge’s sadistic acts couldn’t stop me from enjoying Hogwarts or having friends and if we could laugh right after I got done bleeding then she definitely couldn’t stop us.  
  
Finally, our laughter trickled out, and I wiped the tears that had collected at the corners of my eyes, cheeks on fire from all the smiling. I felt pleasantly tired and didn’t resist when Hermione took back my hand to resume the cleaning.  
  
I leaned against Fred, whose shoulder I figured out was surprisingly comfy, and looked at everyone in turn. The dark air had dispersed and everyone had a much lighter expression on.  
  
I didn’t noticed Hermione had finished with the wiping but noticed when she placed my hand in the yellow substance that cleared away all the pain from my hand. I sighed in relief, burying my face into Fred’s shoulder even more than before.  
  
The pine scent of him was soothing and I felt my eyelids flutter shut, distantly listening to everyone talk and banter. It wasn’t noise to me. It was the sound of friends. And I could live with that.  
  
I was asleep before Hermione wrapped my hand with the bandages. The detention might have been horrible and my hand would be errantly scarred by the time all of them were over, but Umbridge?  
  
She would never, ever break me.


	8. The Act of Playing

I got to the Quidditch pitch just as the clouds dispersed and the sky was left a brilliant blue, a few shades lighter than Fred’s ey- I mean, a robin’s egg. Tuesday had already come and gone, with a new depth of words carved into my skin.  
  
Umbridge had been particularly unbearable, sending me looks that clearly said, “I win.” Over my dead body. I hadn’t spoken out in the class but I didn’t necessarily back down. I refused to read out-loud and openly glared at her, hoping she would burst into flames. There wasn’t much I could do, but I did all I could.  
  
Potions, or I guess Malfoy in particular, had also been worse than normal. Snape dropped another of my samples, not that that was anything new but Draco also managed to be both cowardly and stupid. Without actually saying a word to me, he got me to bleed. Long story short, he dropped a cauldron on my mangled hand, causing both extra bruising and the wounds to re-open. I almost socked him in the face again.  
  
My fresh bandages were practically soaked through by the time class was over. I didn’t ask to go to the nurse though, I would not give either Snape nor Malfoy the satisfaction or bring around Madam Pomfrey’s attention.  
  
I got through the second detention without saying a word again, though the pain was amplified enough to make my eyes water a bit. But, I got through it, sludging back to the Common Room where Harry and all them were waiting for me again.  
  
Hermione cleaned my hand again and I put up no resistance. We sat and talked until she finished, then said good-night and went off to our respective rooms.  
  
Now, here I am, walking through the Quidditch changing rooms and out to the field where a small crowd had gathered. I saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron amongst the faces, along with Fred and George and Neville.  
  
There was also the Gryffindor Team, which I recognized, even though I had never spoken to most of them, since they were wearing their jerseys. Ginny was among them.  
  
Most of the Gryffindor House had come to watch me and Ginny face off and I’m pretty sure I saw some Hufflepuff’s and Ravenclaw’s too.  
  
Ginny came running up to me when she saw me walking.  
  
“Ready to get your butt beat?” she asked, grinning.  
  
“I’m not that masochistic. I’m more of a sadist, beware.” I winked, and she grimaced, laughing. Hooking our arms, we walked up to the crowd.  
  
A black girl, who was gorgeous I might add, stepped forward, smiling, “I’m Angelina Johnson, Gryffinor Captain, Chaser.”  
  
“Ariel Vanderick, Self-Proclaimed Genius, Future Chaser.” Smirking, I sent a glance at Ginny who just scoffed and pushed my arm a bit. Angelina laughed and introduced me to the rest of the team.  
  
Once that was done, Angelina explained how this was gonna go down.  
  
“You and Ginny will face off for Chaser position. Who ever doesn’t win, will take the Seeker spot. Ron and I will be playing Keeper. Whoever gets to 100 first, gets the spot. Understand?” Me and Ginny nodded.  
  
“Okay, let’s do this.”  
  
Immediately, the crowd dispersed up to the bleachers and took seats. The broom shed was opened and our brooms taken out. I tied up my hair into a messy bun and shrugged off my robe. As I finished folding my robe, Fred and George walked up to me with curious sweaters on.  
  
They were wearing red and gold sweaters with a symbol on their chest that looked like an “A” and a “G” connected.  
  
“Good luck.” They said in unison.  
  
I smiled at them a bit skeptically, “Aren’t you supposed to be rooting for your sister? That seems like betraying the family. Blood-bond and all that jazz.”  
  
“We said the same thing to Ginny so it’s even.” George said flippantly, like that made it better.  
  
“Right.” I said, non-committed, flipping my bangs from my eyelashes.  
  
George began to walk away, towards the stairs to the bleachers, sending me a thumbs-up but Fred came a bit closer, leaning down quite a bit to whisper in my ear,  
  
“I’m secretly rooting for you.” His breath was warm and moist, sending goose-bumps racing down my neck which I’m sure he could see. Then Fred stood back, winked, and sauntered off. For some reason, which I currently didn’t have the time to understand, I felt a slight blush crawl its way up my cheeks. But now was no time to get distracted, I needed to get focused and in the game.  
  
I went over my pre-game strategy.  
  
Since I knew Ginny was going to be insanely hard to beat, I had went for tight, aerodynamic clothing, hoping to cut down on wind resistance and wouldn’t have to mess that much with my clothes. I was dressed in tight, but stretchy skinny jeans, tucked into my boots, and a fitted red t-shirt.  
  
My hair was pulled out of my face, my clothing wouldn’t get in the way, and my shoes wouldn’t fall off; I was as ready as I could be. Ginny was also pulling her hair up and, after pulling off her own robe, I figured out she was dressed in her jersey too.  
  
Angelina handed me my broom and a set of pads. The pads were worn, dark leather that were warm and surprisingly comfy. They hooked over my shins like grieves and over my forearms. They also had built in gloves, which were charmed to hold on to your broom better, I was told.  
  
Still, I took no chances with my hurt hand and cast a sticking charm on it, hoping it would keep me from hurting it too much while also keeping me on the broom.  
  
Taking hold of Mop, I walked over to Ginny, who had just buckled her last pad strap.  
  
“No matter who wins, we’re still friends.” I held out my hand.  
  
She grasped it immediately, smiling, “Of course.”  
  
Then we let go and walked apart. We mounted our brooms, winked at each other, and waited for the whistle. Katie Bell, a Gryffindor Chaser, stood in the middle of the field with a Quaffel and a whistle. She raised the whistle to her lips and I tensed.  
  
The second she inhaled and forced air through the whistle, I was off, shooting towards the up heaved Quaffel, Ginny just as fast.  
  
We reached the Quaffel at the same time and nearly crashed into each other trying to get it. Cutting my losses (since I really didn’t want to lose an eye), I held back and let her take hold of it, planning to get it back in the near future.  
  
Immediately, she swerved off and raced towards my goal post, myself a second behind her. I flew above her, more to her right, which was where the Quaffel was clutched. Taking a deep breath, I angled sharply down, thrusting out my hand to fly in between the triangle window of her ribs and arm, catching the back of the Quaffel, and punching it through the loop of her arm.  
  
Note: I cracked two of my knuckles in the process and would have slight bruising the next day.  
  
I zipped underneath her as she yelped, catching the falling ball and flipping myself upside down to race to the other post. Ginny, recovering faster than a normal person would, started off after me.  
  
Shooting towards Ron, I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Ginny was catching up. Catching me look, she grinned wickedly. I laughed and turned my attention back to what was in front of me, putting on an extra burst of speed.  
  
Ron floated in front of the middle ring, watching my oncoming with a slightly anxious demeanor. When I got close enough, Ginny just behind me, I shifted the Quaffel, balancing it in my hand to throw it.  
  
“Sorry Ron!” I called, just before my attack. In a split second, I called up my unnatural strength, bunched my muscles up, and shot them forward like a spring, launching the Quaffel at the left hoop. Ron missed the spinning blur by inches, having moved surprisingly fast.  
  
I slowed and pulled to a stop, the first trickling of adrenaline kicking into my system, slowly building. Ron flew over to get the scored Quaffel and Ginny floated over next to me.  
  
“Blimey Ace, you’ve got a cannon. But it was just a lucky shot.” She added quickly. I laughed and pushed her, forcing her a few feet away.  
  
An explosion went off suddenly behind us and both me and Ginny whirled around to the sound. A giant red number 1 had appeared in the air above a section of the stands and appeared to be made up of fireworks. Looking below it, Fred and George stood among a billow of smoke, sooty and grinning.  
  
Both Ginny and I laughed before setting back up in the middle of the pitch again.  
  
For the next half an hour, we flew against each other, trying to score or get the upper hand; each of our maneuvers becoming more and more intense. We stayed level in the score despite our best attempts, landing 9-9 finally.  
  
Ginny and I floated above the middle of the pitch, panting, sweating, and laughing. It was scary how evenly matched we were. The once unified group of watchers had now become two sections, each with either red or blue on. Only Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George stood in the middle, refusing to take sides.  
  
Katie was still standing in the middle of the pitch with the game ready Quaffle, about to shoot in up in the air and start the battle for the last point. She threw it up and in a practiced movement, both Ginny and I shot towards the the ball.  
  
Tipping the ball with the barest hints of my fingers, just pushing it out of Ginny’s reach, I gained possession and streaked low across the ground towards my goal posts.  
  
Ginny pulled up to my right and had started to make a move to steal the Quaffle when I reacted and pulled a hard left turn, still insanely close to the ground. I rushed towards the sides of the field, dipping down into the wooden beams between the Pitch’s walls and the field itself.  
  
Using my brooms superior agility, I weaved over and under the beams, Ginny staying remarkably close behind me. It was a blur of wood and shadows, trails of sunlight peeking through the gaps when able. It flashed bright then dark, dazzling my eyes, making them sting.  
  
Stealing a risky glance up, I counted the beams until I was directly under the posts then stopped, tilted, and shot straight up. Ron, who had evidently been unable to spot me, gasped at my sudden appearance a mere fifty feet beneath him and coming in fast.  
  
“You wanker!” I heard Ginny yell. Not risking a laugh or anything since I could practically feel her right beneath me, I focused souly on the oncoming ring, Ron floating in front of it.  
  
I propped the precious Quaffel in my hand, balancing strength and accuracy and hoping that I wouldn’t fail epically right here. As I came up even with the ring, I chucked it forward, catching Ron in the shoulder and nearly upsetting him off his broom. Luckily, by inches, the Quaffel sailed through the ring and cleared my tenth and final point.  
  
In the next moment, Ginny and I were both on the ground, side by side, catching our breath.  
  
“You’re fantastic on the CleanSweep, Gin. Most can’t keep up with a Nimbus.” I chuckled once but couldn’t find the effort in me to do it again. By that time, the crowd in the stands had streamed down and onto the field, making their way towards us.  
  
Angelina was the first to talk, I watched her from my position on the ground.  
  
“Bloody hell, I thought that game was never gonna end! But, you still won, Ariel. You’re now a Gryffindor Chaser; welcome to the team.” People cheered and congratulated me, but frankly, I was too tired to do anything but smile and thank them.  
  
Both Ginny and I had yet to move from our laying down positions and the aches were starting to set in. Ron was rubbing his shoulder ruefully, Hermione sending small almost unnoticeable worried glances his way. I felt bad for hitting him and made a mental note to let him beat me in chess later to make up for it.  
  
I forced myself up, then held a hang out to Ginny. She took it instantly and I pulled her standing.  
  
“Good job, Ariel. You deserved to win.” Ginny nodded, smiling, completely sincere.  
  
I ducked my head, embarrassed at the praise. A bundle of red and gold appeared in my vision suddenly. Glancing up, I saw Harry was the one holding it, smiling widely. I grabbed it and upon inspecting it, grinned widely and pulled Harry into a hug.  
  
It was a Quidditch robe with Vanderwick stitched on the back. After letting a mildly surprised Harry go, I put it on, admiring the fabric and how it fit. A round of applause went up.  
  
“Thank you, thank you!” I bowed, still smiling like a mad-woman. I put my arm around Ginny, hugging her to me for a second, then looked up at the baby-blue sky. Today was good.


	9. The Act of Pain

(AUTHORS NOTE: Since I took so long to post the crappy last chapter, I decided to write a gigantic-double-cream-in-your-pants chapter to make up for it. Hope you all forgive me :3 )  
  
Ginny, who was taking the loss remarkably well, was the reason I had to wait an extra day to go to a DA meeting. She claimed that I couldn't fully reveal in my formidable win unless I was subjected to immense praise and compliments. That, she said, couldn't be accomplished if I had to fling my wand around later.  
  
Convincing Harry to prolong the meeting was disgustingly easily; especially when Ginny batted her eyes and did a thing with her "-ness" that I proudly dubbed, a Ginny. To perform a Ginny, you 1) have to be Ginny, 2) be influencing the famous Harry Potter, and 3) be Ginny.  
  
Said red-head then dragged me upstairs to the girls’ dormitories where she, Hermione, and I spent the rest of the day giggling and whispering. It was nice to just hang out with girls, an experience I had yet to know.  
  
By the time I fell asleep, my fingernails had been painted a fantastic shade of blue, my toenails the same, my hair had been braided (to look fantastic tomorrow as I was told), and I was in the confidence of both Ginny and Hermione by way of saucy secrets. To be in the confidence of anyone, made my chest give little bubbles of happiness, which sounded incredibly cheesy, but that's the only way I could really describe it.  
  
The morning of Thursday was one of those days where you swear the clock moved backwards just to spite you. The classes, while interesting, were unable to keep my mind from wandering. Since I sat by a window, my eyesight was drawn to the outside more than normal which only tended to happen as the full moon got closer and my more... animalistic side came apparent.  
  
That thought alone was able to drag me back to myself and the lesson being taught.  
  
After lunch (which included both Fred and George transfiguring my food into sprinkles, which I promptly ate, much to their delight), Divination and Herbology weren't too exciting. I mean Neville did have to save me from this evil plant that tried to suck me into its blossom thingy.  
  
Note: Neville is a  _fantastic_ knight in shining armor.  
  
After classes, I could barely stand counting the minutes to the session. I was excited to finally be using defensive spells, figuratively spitting in Umbridge's face, and get a well-earned work-out. My wand felt a bit rusty.  
  
I smiled all through dinner and even, despite the pain building from my hand, had a small smile on my face during my detention. I kept it hidden behind my bangs so Umbridge didn't suspect anything; I didn't want her ruining this for me.  
  
Needless to say, I was excited for the meeting. I could barely sit straight as Hermione bandaged up my hand from the detention session.  
  
"Hold still!" she barked again, giving me her 'Hermione-Stare' which had lost its intended effect ages ago. My reaction was to role my eyes and try to find something to hold my attention until she was finished.  
  
Harry said that as soon as she was done bandaging it, we'd head off to practice. Only Hermione was taking flipping-forever.  
  
My eyes landed on Fred, who was playing a game of Exploding Snap with George, his ever-constant companion.  
  
His oh-so blue eyes were trained carefully on the growing, combustors pile of cards. A small, secret, unconscious smile played at the corners of his mouth; not a full out adorkably crooked smile that did funny things to my insides, but one that wasn't all there physically but you knew was jumping around in his brain.  
  
His hand, long and gracefully thin, stretched out to his intended card, making the sleeve of his shirt (which sadly, wasn't rolled up) pull back enough to give a glimpse of wrist. His eyes sparkled at the build up of tension, his shoulders and back tensing microscopically, the slightest and single twitch of anticipation in his ring finger; all of it, I saw. And all of it, I knew had me in danger.  
  
Dear lord, I was staring. Not just that, I was staring  _hard-core_. I was, irrevocably, irrationally, and fabulously, nursing a crush to this red-headed boy.  
  
I didn't know whether to be scared or excited or what. And frankly, I was too nervous to think much about it at all. So, like the tough, strong, teenage girl I am, I didn't. Shoved that thought right out of my head and made sure I turned my thoughts and my eyes to safer subjects.  
  
Picking a test on tropical plants for Herbology that I was supposed to be studying for, I mentally picked through the majority of the plants and their uses, locations, and quantities.  
  
It helped; a little bit at least. It wasn't until Hermione had given the last tug on my bandages that I perked up and had completely (for the most part) forgotten about Fred. I had convinced myself that it would blow over, and if it didn't, well, I've dealt with worse...  
  
I didn't have the way to the Room of Requirement memorized yet, so I couldn't pull them along faster, despite many furious, whispered pleas. Since Harry had this kick-ass map that showed where everyone was in the castle at any given time, it was a fairly leisurely stroll to the Room which everybody in the DA should be congregating to soon.  
  
Harry had activated the Galleons so I figured we'd have about fifteen minutes before everybody showed up. The room they practiced in was full of mirrors and closets that held dummies; I'm guessing were used for target practice from the numerous dents that showered them.  
  
The floor was a metal grate type thing and the ceiling vaulted, and marble. There was a cork-board posted along the back wall with photos and newspaper clippings referring to "strange murders" and "freak storms". It was in connection to Voldemort.  
  
At fifteen minutes and three seconds, Hermione had checked the list and concluded that everyone was there. I noticed Collin Creevey, a kid a year below me, who stared. A lot. Cho Chang, who, I heard from Ginny, was crushing hard core on Harry, much to Ginny's displeasure. Her friend, what's-her-face. Neville was also there along with the Patil Twins, Lee Thomas (a friend of Forge), and LunaLovegood. There were a few others who I've seen but never talked to.  
  
Coughing, to get our attention I'm guessing, Harry stood on a step leading to the door and looked at us, waiting for us to quiet down. Remarkably, everyone did suprisingly fast, and I was happy to just go with the flow.  
  
Once we were all quiet and paying attention, Harry started the meeting, "Ah, hello everyone.  
  
First things first, we've been at this for a few months now and I just wanted to say that you've all grown and improved so much."  
  
"Cause we're fantastic, that's why." George chorused in the back, eliciting a few laughs and smiles.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes but continued nonetheless, "Like I was saying, you've all gotten so much better and there's really only one thing I have left to teach you from my personal experience. That's the Patronus which is the hardest spell I've ever learned. It's gonna take a lot of time and effort but I know you guys can get it down."  
  
He paused for a moment, looking for something to say, "Uh-," he glanced around, eyes landing on me. Crap.  
  
"Somebody new joined us today! I'm sure you all know Ariel, as she was the girl who knocked Malfoy flat her first day here." A round of cheers went up and I laughed, ducking my face which was in danger of turning a charming shade of vermillion.  
  
Harry walked forward and tugged me to my feet, making me stand up in front of the crowd with him. Smiling widely, I leaned in close, "I'm going to kill you, you know that?"  
  
Harry, grinning also, replied, "I hate being out here alone."  
  
My smile dropped a fraction.  
  
"Making me feel sorry for you isn't going to help. Make them start practicing or something."  
  
"I can't. I don't know how far you are along yet and if they start practicing, I have to help them then consequently, I can't help you. Duel me."  
  
My smile? Gone. What it was replaced with? Eyebrow cock.  
  
"And that would benefit me how?"  
  
"By showing me what you can do, so I know what I need to work with you on." Damn him and his good arguments.  
  
"Fine," I scowled. Harry grinned, vaguely impishly. He turned towards the crowd of students who had watched the whole debacle with amused faces.  
  
"Since I don't know how much help Ariel needs, and I can't help her if I'm helping you guys, we're going to duel." There was a murmur of excitement from the crowd but one person apparently objected that idea completely and utterly. Can you guess who it was?  
  
"Duel?!" Hermione gasped, "Are you sure, Harry? You could hurt Ariel, especially when her hand is injured."  
  
"Hey!" I cried out indignantly. Harry tried to conceal a smile. Fred and George on the other hand didn't even try and their laughter was heard very clearly. I glared at them.  
  
"I can handle myself just fine, thanks." I muttered, Hermione didn't even glance my way.  
  
Harry, sensing my peeve-ness, intervened, "I'll be easy with her. I don't have time to go through all the spells I've taught one by one and we need to get started on Patronus. This will be faster and easier; if she can keep up with me in a duel, then she's obviously gonna be able to produce a Patronus like all of you." Harry reasoned. Hermione still unsure started to rebuke before Ginny cut in,  
  
"Oh c'mon Hermione. She played Quidditch brilliantly and her hand was mangled then. And you know Harry, he won't hurt her. Even if she does, Ariel can take it."  
  
"Thank you!" I cried, happy that someone wasn't babying me finally. Hermione, out numbered, conceded defeat- though none-too-happy about it saying that this was all gonna end badly.  
  
The crowd took their positions then, lining the side of the room and casting Protigo charms to protect them from any fly-away spells. I walked between the split crowd and to the cork board at the end of the room; Harry stayed by the steps. There was about twenty to twenty-five feet between us, plenty of room for a duel.  
  
We bowed then, keeping our faces up. Harry smiled comfortingly at me and I returned the smile, adrenaline kicking into my system. I was getting ready for a fight and my body knew it.  
  
I shifted into a defensive stance and saw Harry tense up also.  
  
I waited for him to make the first move. As if sensing this, Harry didn't leave me waiting for long.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, casting the spell in a blur. I swatted it away silently, heart thundering as the full consciousness of a duel settled over my brain.  
  
I sent a hex back at him, less for beating him and more for testing his attributes. He was just about perfect in dueling in every way possible. He struck fast, insanely fast actually, and had great blocking skills. He was agile and, consulting the bright flash of magic streaking towards me, I concluded that he also was supremely powerful and could cast damn near any hex or jinx with pull potency.  
  
"Confundo!" I slashed my wand, retaliations getting faster and faster as I concluded my assessment of what I was up against. Harry, side-stepped and spat a hex back at me.  
  
"Protigo!" The spell bounced off my shield and smashed into one of the side shields protecting the crowd.  
  
Harry sent another spell spinning my way before I had the chance to retaliate and it took a burst of hybrid talents to be able to drop to the ground in time for the spell to pass over my head harmlessly.  
  
Alright, play time was over. I pushed to my feet in the same motion as I spit the Bat-Boogy Hex to Harry's face. He glanced it away and my second spell, the Freezing Charm, at him in hopes of quickly ending this duel.  
  
"Iter!" Harry sent the Tripping Jinx towards me and I rolled to the side, catching my breath behind a pillar. I heard him breathing harshly and I noticed my heart was pounding. Mentally shifting through my list of jinxes and hexes, I brought a few forward to use next.  
  
I risked a glance around the corner and had just enough time to whip my head back around before the jinx smashed into the stone next to me. Taking a deep breath, I ran out from the pillar at the same time I sent Tarantallegra towards Harry.  
  
He dodged and thus we went back to sending hex after jinx after spell at each other before it happened.  
  
Harry had sent a silent spell, one that I instantly blocked. But, the spell exploded on contact with my shield, causing an enormous eruption of smoke to obstruct my view. Instantly disoriented, my animal instincts kicked into over-drive, disorienting me even more.  
  
I couldn't see my hand in front of my face so it was a bit obvious that I didn't see the spell that Harry had cast until it hit me straight to the chest and I was hanging upside down from my ankle, clutching my skirt to keep it from flashing my Iron Man undies.  
  
When the smoke cleared, I saw Harry, wand upraised at the end of the dueling platform, a smirk on his face. Ginny started busting up at my appearance, most of the crowd following in suit. Some of the boys (Neville) were bashful enough to blush at my holding up my skirt.  
  
I started laughing along with them, knowing that I indeed looked a bit funny. Soon enough, Harry floated me down to the floor and I was right-side up again. He walked over as the crowd, amongst its giggling, took down their shields.  
  
"I think you're ready for the Patronus." He smirked, obviously satisfied with his win.  
I stuck my tongue out at him, enticing a laugh from the Boy-Who-Lived. I grinned also, happy that I had kept up that long with the Dueling Master. After that, Harry got us working on the Patronus.  
  
It was hard work. Finding a happy memory alone was a bit tough. Surprisingly, it was a really recent one. It was the time right before my first detention with Umbridge. I was content and happy and peaceful. I was able to grasp the bearings of the spell a bit better after focusing on that memory.  
  
While I was working, I even got to know a girl whom was apart of the group of people that I had never talked to. Her name was Zoe and she was in Gryffindor like me. Only she was a 7th year. She was pretty chill.  
  
No body got it on the first meeting but Harry said that was normal. The most that happened was one or two wisps that Hermione or I was able to conjure.  
  
After that, the month passed quickly. I got my first Patronus two meetings later. It was a lion. Neville said it was fitting. Have I told you how much I love him?  
  
Classes were the same, and I finally finished my detentions with Umbridge, the pain in my hand boarding unbearable by the end. My hand stayed bandaged for long time after that though I healed a few days later.  
  
The first quizzes I took in my classes, I passed with flying colors and Umbridge had yet to entice a verbal explosion from me again though I itched to smash her through a window.  
And then the week of the full moon, I got them. The nightmares. They always happen a few days before the change. It was flashes of my parent’s murder and my attack. Always the same dream but somehow more horrifying every night. For the week before the change, I had bags under my eyes from lack of sleep and I woke up sweating and boarding screaming.  
  
It even got to bad that I had to cast a Silencing charm around my bed so the others didn't hear. Hermione was freaking out, asking if I was okay, if I was getting sick and what-not. I went with the getting sick one. Even carried around tissues with me and sneezed to keep up the act.  
  
Snape, wasn't helping with my low-key strategy either. He'd blatantly walk up to me during lunch and hand me the wolfsbane in front of everyone; like he wanted me to get found out. The douche. The potion steamed and I saw Harry eye it with a confused look; it paranoid me enough that I had to make up the lie saying that Dumbledore wanted to see how certain potions effected me since I was part-veela. He still seemed skeptical so I made a mental note to ask Dumbledore if he could tell Snape to give me my potions in a less obvious place.  
  
And don't even get my started on the wolfsbane. Nastiest potion you will ever take. In your life. To describe it would be an unnecessary evil so I'll spare you the details. But, like the good girl I was, I took it every night preceding the change and when the dreaded night finally came, I was ready, standing outside the portrait with my school supplies for the next day.  
  
Professor McGonagall arrived at the portrait exactly at six; two hours, nineteen minutes, and fifty-seven seconds before the moon rose. She lead me through the castle, out the front gate, and around to Hagrid's Hut.  
  
Nobody questioned me leaving; all I said was that McGonagall needed me for something involving my transfer and that was that. Tomorrow, when I came late to class, I'd tell them I was just too sick to go back to the common room last night and headed to the Hospital Wing instead.  
  
It'd only be half a lie...  
  
Anyway, the Professor lead me to the Whomping Willow, a tree I had heard a story or two about from the trio about their escapades there with a few Animagus. McGonagall cast a quick spell at it, and then lead me to a hole near the roots. We walked along a long, tunneled out corridor until we ended up in the basement of an old house.  
  
I could tell that the house had been recently fixed up, as dust permeated the air more than if it would have if the house had been undisturbed. My animalistic senses had been heightened ten-fold by the oncoming moon, so every creak of wood sounded like a gun-shot to my ears.  
  
She then led me to the top of the house and to a room with a medieval looking table. There were cuffs at the bottom and middle and even a longer one at the top, presumably for my neck.  
  
"The bands and table have been reinforced a dozen times so they should be able to withstand your change. There's a stash of extra uniforms, undergarments, toletries, and towels in the closet and a tub for washing in the next room. Just slip into the bands and they should tighten automatically. They loosen precisely as the moon goes down as to stop any unwanted mishaps." She glanced around the room, looking for something else to tell me.  
  
Finding none, she glanced at me then, presumably taking in my eye bags, pale skin, and sheen of sweat.  
  
Her gaze softened and she reached a hand out to touch my shoulder, "Good luck, Ariel." And then she was gone. This was the part I always dreaded from my change. The ache of loneliness.  
  
No one would help me through the next few hours. I was all alone and had only myself to keep me company. It was like a foreboding, hollow pit in the center of my stomach.  
  
Nonetheless, I got ready for the imminent pain. Quickly, I shed my clothing and folded it into a neat pile by the table. I then situated myself on it, anxiously slipping my wrists, ankles, and neck through the loops. The bands tightened considerably around my ankles and wrists, but were less constricting around my neck.  
  
Most people would be uncomfortable when stark naked and strapped to a table, but not me; I've been doing since I was ten years old and had gone through enough changes and ruined enough clothes to realize that it was just better to be naked.  
  
A charm kept my hands flat to the table as to keep myself from stabbing myself later. When I changed, my nails extended an inch or two and I have, on several rushed occasions, stabbed through my hands when I clenched them while I changed.  
  
Apparently, there was another charm on the table to keep it warm and not icy as it should have been in the cold room. The chill bothered me a bit now, but I knew that in a few short minutes, the chill would be the last thing on my mind.  
  
I tried to keep calm; panicking never helped. I took deep breaths and shut my eyes, thinking happier thoughts. Though being strapped to a table in an icy room sucks the fun out of everything.  
  
A few minutes later, I felt it. I felt the clouds move from the moon as if broke over the hillside. I knew what it looked like, because I watched it happen every night, knowing that soon, it would bring not only the light of the moon, but the pain of the change.  
  
A feeling similar to having an ice-cube run down your spine erupted across my skin, bringing up goose-bumps and another curl of dread in my stomach. My scalp tickled and I saw white streak through the black before over taking it and consuming it completely. I felt my eyes sting and knew that blue had vanished all traces of the topaz that was there before.  
  
Once the facial changes had finished, I knew I had only minutes before the werewolf blood of mine kicked in and the real torture began. Umbridge's detentions would be kids play to this. I really hoped the wolfbane did its job.  
  
Approximately eleven minutes later, the moon fully cleared the hill and I felt the full influence of it hit my chest, making me gasp for air at the sudden sensations.  
  
It always started the same. A crushing shadow weight settled on my chest, making it hard to breathe, until everything clicked into place and the weight lifted. Only to be replaced by the change.  
  
Now normally when people change, their bones shift, grow, or shrink depending on where the bone is. Their skin thickens and stretches. Their jaws shift out of place and narrow outwards, their vocal cords elongate and thin out becoming capable of howling and making a variety of wolf noises. All this happens in the course of a minute or two, and then everything settles into the new form and they're go for the night until they revert back.  
  
With me, however, I was stuck in the changing process. My bones did all the shifting and changing, my skin grew thicker, and I went through the multiple changes that every other werewolf went through, only my body didn't settle. It's like my veela blood was fighting the change and wouldn't let me become a monster.  
  
My bones were constantly moving and shrinking and rubbing against each other, tearing at the sensitive nerves that covered them. My skin stretched and taunted and was pulled around by my shifting bones in a continuous motion so it's like I had all my skin grated off, before being put into a bath of acid and being the recipiant of multiple Indian burns in said bath.  
  
The bones of my jaw and skull were constantly in motion; breaking and popping to fit into a wolf-esk form. The muscles in my throat were being pulled and stretched the whole night too, stopping all sounds except for quiet whimpers or blood-curdling screams.  
  
The sad part is that I have kind of gotten used to the pain. After living for five years with this condition I had learned a number of things. Like, that thrashing didn't help. Neither did screaming- though they were both hard to stop. No matter how I twisted and curled, it never reduced the pain I felt. I had to be strong in my weakest moment.  
  
God, I felt so alone. The crushing weight dissipated and I felt the start of the cursed transformation. My bones started moving, my skin tightening, my jaw unhinging.  
  
At the first crack of my jaw unhinging, pain exploded in my mind. My jaw moving was only the first of many bones to be disjointed and crushed and shifted tonight. It set off a chain-reaction to all my other bones that were caught up in the change, moving and bending to the transformations will.  
  
The pain now built up even further, yet surprisingly not as much as it would a normal night so I guessed, with as much as my pain-destroyed mind could comprehend, that the wolfsbane was doing its job.  
  
I usually go through several Pain-Stages as I changed. First, the initial pain. Huge, and dulled. Second, the acute pain. Smaller shaper stabs of pain. Like needles compaired to the baseball bats earlier. Third, the Crucio pain. Think of it as the two beginner pains mixed together. Finally, about an hour or two before the change was over, there was the numbness. A dull ache would surround me, still painful but like my nerves were tired from sending signals to my brain.  
  
I usually have the hardest time not screaming during the third stage- the first and second I could handle with less effort than the third. Normally, a good clenching of my teeth were able to keep me from screaming during the first two but the third required me to tense my body, curl my hands, grind my teeth together, and arch my back a few times which added a small dose of relief for just a few seconds.  
  
There was nothing really I could do to keep my mind off the pain. It clouded over my conscious mind and made it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything. I could get by with counting for a while but when it got so far into the change, nothing helped.  
  
But I couldn't just focus on the sensation of being ripped apart; otherwise I would've gone crazy a long time ago. The pain ate me up a chewed me out but I still was sane. If I broke and thought of the pain and the pain alone, it would not only eat me up, but would chew and chew and chew, until there was nothing left of me, before spitting me out.  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows, clenching my eyes shut, and concentrated with all my might to focus and not panic at the sensations threatening to drown me. Lights sparkled behind my eye-lids and I watched them, fighting it all.  
  
My muscles twitched and spasm, clenched and unclenched, my will not controling any of them. My nails grew and sharpened, ripping out of my nail-beds with a bloody vengeance. I felt the scars on the back of my hand grow hot and irate.  
  
Struggling to control my breathing, I tried deep breaths which only get sharp stabs of pain into my lungs, body rejecting the movement. All the while, I heard sickening cracks and crunches as my bones distorted.  
  
I knew if I looked down, I would see bulges and lumps as my body mutated to the forgien gene. My face would be vaguely wolf-esk, while shifting between that and human. My ears would be pointing, my limbs thinning and muscles leaning up. It was grotesque and I had made the mistake of hiding during a change in a mirrored room. Needless to say, it ranked right up there in my top 5 worst full-moons ever.  
  
I noticed yet again though, that the pain wasn't as intense as normal and as much as I hate to say this I was a bit thankful to Snape for the wolfsbane.  
  
Soon, I settled in to my normal coping process. I counted until the pain caused me to mess up, and then started again. The highest I got was 5 thousand something before I had to start again.  
  
Once the pain got bad enough, counting wasn't in my capabilities so I had to settle with just lying there and taking the pain as it came. My stomach felt like it was tying itself in knots, though I resisted the urge to vomit. I ached and burned in the worst way possible. That was the hardest part but it didn't last forever. Soon, counting was once again the pain time-passer.  
  
After what seemed like a life-time, the pain lessened, gradually, as the moon waned. I didn't notice when it first started drifting away but soon I became concious that I didn't have to clench my teeth until they ached or be careful of breathing too deep.  
It was a big relief, that feeling that the night was almost over. I was coated with sweat and blood and god-knows what else, but I was still sane and still kicking. The potion had done its job.  
  
As all werewolves can do, when they're in their right mind of course, I counted down the minutes until the moon disappeared over the ridge of hills and mountains.  
It was about six o' clock when the moon dispersed completely. My body settled back into normal form though I still felt achy and worn. I'd been up all night and desperately wanted to sleep but I knew it would screw up my hours if I did.  
  
I felt the ropes around my limbs and neck loosens; the charm that kept my hands flat to the table release and the full weight of the night hit me. I felt as if I had been run over by Hermione on her way to the library. There was lightness in my head that meant I needed to eat.  
  
Weirdly enough, though it made sense if you thought about it, I lost weight after every full moon. I guess with my body being in constant motion, while also fighting the change, burnt up a lot of calories. God knows I'm gonna be munching the whole day.  
I sat up stiffly. My skin was pale, clammy, and gross feeling; I definitely needed a bath.  
  
Slipping off the table and grabbing my wand from my pile of clothes, I cast a simple water spell and a heating spell. When the water was a degree off scalding, I slipped in, wincing at the heat on my sensitive nerves.  
  
Gradually though, the warm seeped in, relaxed all my abused muscles and set peace to my mind. I was careful not to fall asleep though. Using my wand to conjore up some soap, I scrubbed my body, washing away the night and its memories.  
  
When I was thoroughly pink and noticed that I only had a little while to get to class, I stepped out of the bath and dried myself. I slipped on a new uniform and threw my wand-dried hair into a ponytail. A small mirror on the wall showed me that doing so uncovered the growing bruises around my jaw, under my ear from it unhinging and moving.  
  
I had similar bruises like that all around the rest of my body. It was from the bones moving against each other, bruising the nerves, bone, and skin alike. It was mostly at all my major joints. I had some near my hips, shoulders, knees, and my hands and feet were a mass of blue.  
  
Not wanting to get to many suspicious stares, I pulled my hair down, and tried to fluff it up so that it curled around my face more. It didn't work so I just magically curled it, accomplishing at the same time hiding the bruises and looking pretty.  
  
Well at least my hair did. My cheeks were shallow and gaunt, my face pale, eyes bloodshot with dark bags underneath. One good Pepperup Potion from Madam Pomfrey and I'd look fine.  
  
I hope.  
  
When I left the Shack with my school supplies for the day and started off back to the school, it  
was around 7:30. I had half an hour before breakfast started to get back to the castle and get a potion for my face. Not much time considering the Shack was eight-hundred miles from the castle. I jogged a little to make up for lost time and try to keep warm. I finally got to the entrance of the tunnel at 7:52.  
  
Outside was cold and I desperately wished for the warm bath again. The resounding heat that had followed me out of said bath was long gone. The cold was a good way to wake up some more though; I was resisting the urge to grind the heels of my palms into my eyeballs in an attempt to scrape away the blurriness.  
  
It was also extremely bright outside which was adding fantastically to my growing headache. The headaches were probably the most annoying thing about after the change. They started growing slowly once I shifted completely back and got so bad that I had to look through my lashes to dim everything down to a near-twilight light level. Anything else and my eyes about exploded. No way was a PepperUp Potion was going to stop that, and believe me; I've tried a great number of things.  
  
I made it back to the entrance hall right as Breakfast started but it was still early enough that no one was there except for a few morning-people. The trip to the Hospital Wing was short enough from here. Madam Pomfrey opened the doors on the first knock, muttering under her breath.  
  
"Already? Who in the world breaks themselves this early in the mor-" when she saw it was me, she stopped dead and her irate expression turned into one of understand and, dare I say it, pity. It did not help my mood.  
  
"Come in dear, and we'll fix you right up." She ushered me in, hands fluttering nuteringly around my shoulders and sat me down on an empty bed.  
  
"I just need a PepperUp Potion." I said tiredly, yawning. She nodded and dissapeared into her office, and came back a few seconds later with a potion that was just yellow enough to send a thud of pain to the back of my eyes. Great, this headache was gonna be fantastic.  
  
She handed me the vial and watched as I uncorked it, and took two nice-sized gulps. Instantly, I got warm again, sparks of heat in my chilled fingertips. I corked the potion again as the rest of the effects took place. My eyes were soothed and the redness gone. My cheeks pink again and full. The bags under my eyes lightened and I now no longer looked like I've been through hell, but just as if I got a bit too little sleep.  
  
I went to hand it back to her but she shook her head.  
  
"Keep it. I've got dozens more and you need it. You still have a few months before school is out." I nodded, and thanked her before putting the potion carefully in my bag. I got up from the bed and walked out of the Hospital Wing, waving good-bye to her but in no mood to talk.  
  
Since my stomach felt hollow and I was still feeling a bit light in the head, I decided head to Breakfast and then go to Dumbledore about Snape and my potions if I had time.  
  
There were maybe twenty to thirty people in the Great Hall, one or two of them in Gryffindor, none that I knew though. I sat down at a random spot, wincing at the glare of the shiny goblets which added to my headache that was already about a 2 on the pain scale.  
  
Needless to say, I piled my plate high with anything within arms reach. Bacon, eggs, toast, sausage, pancakes, English muffins, fruit, waffles, everything. The food was deliciously warm and seemed to do more for me than the PepperUp Potion.  
  
Note: Even though I was famished, I still had better manners than Ron. Though that wasn't saying much.  
  
It was about 8:34 when Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked in. When their eyes landed on me, they made their way over. By that time, I was on my third helping of my huge breakfast servings and seemed close to done.  
  
"Hey, where were you? You didn't come back after McGonagall and weren't here this morning." Hermione asked, taking a seat by me. Harry and Ron sat in front of us. While talking, Hermione took out a large book that she propped up against a pitcher before grabbing some food. I tried to be inconspicuous as I shifted my hair forward more on my jaw; no need to flash them the bruises. The ones on my jaw were the hardest ones to hide except for the ones on my hands.  
  
"I felt horrible after the meeting so I just spent the night in the Hospital Wing." I said, ignoring the twinge I felt about lying. Lying to someone I don't like is fine with me but lying to a friend is horrendous.  
  
"Oh. Well do you feel better now?" She asked after swallowing her bite of pancake. Harry and Ron were technically in the conversation too, they eyes flitting to whoever was talking but they couldn't talk themselves for they had mass amounts of foodstuffs crammed into their mouth.  
  
"A bit, I guess," I shrugged, "I hope it sticks." Though with this headache, I didn't think I could feign healthy. Already it was a nuisance and it would be a miracle if I got through the day without biting any ones head off.  
  
After washing down my last bite of breakfast with some pumpkin juice, I stood up from the table and hooked my bag on my shoulder.  
  
"I got to go ask Professor Dumbledore something so I'll see you guys in class, mmkay?" I waved good-bye and felt a bit better that I didn't have to lie. I was going to ask Dumbledore something.  
  
I tried to walk with an upbeat air, but the PepperUp Potion could only do so much. I looked fine, maybe a bit tired, but it didn't stop the aches or pains. On the way out, I passed Draco Malfoy who roughly shoulder-checked me. Instantly, the bruises flared up and my headache thudded demonically behind my skull. It took everything in me not to stumble, or flash pain or make any sound of pain at all, before turning my head and glaring at the smirking platinum haired boy.  
  
"Good morning, Vanderwik." he said, mockingly chipper. God, if I could get away with stomping him into nothing....  
  
I made it to Dumbledore's Office with no other incidents and I hoped that the previous password still worked. It did, surprisingly enough, and I ascended the spiraling staircase before being let in by Dumbledore who didn't look surprised to see me.  
  
The meeting was hardly five minutes but since the castle was so big, by the time it was over,  
it was time to head for Transfiguration. Dumbledore had said he'd talk to Snape about it.  
The trio was already there and the class started seconds after I walked through the door.  
  
McGonagall had us working on changing the aspects of the transfigured object and even though I knew how to do this already, I still tried to pay attention, knowing it was good to go over things. My headache though, had other plans.  
  
Normally, I could get through the Day After with a headache that if I looked through my lashes, was manageable. Already though, today's headache was a fraction away from the peak of a normal headache and it was only nine o' clock. I really hoped this was the extent to which it would get. Though the more pessimistic side of my mind knew this was only the beginning.  
  
By second period, I could hardly walk straight and even the darkened room of Potions was killer on my head. It felt as if my brain was slowly imploding and every step I took jarred pain to behind my eyes and down my neck.  
  
Malfoy, of course, noticed my sensitivity and took every measure possible to slam things onto the desk. I could have throttled the guy.  
  
Lunch didn't make anything better. I couldn't eat a thing and the loud mess of voices set my teeth grinding and black trickling at the edges of vision as if I was going to pass out.  
  
The pain of the change was something I could handle, a burning pain. But the throbbing, dull, blunted stabs in my skull effected me more than anything.  
  
Hermione and Ginny were sending worried glances at me and I couldn't screw up my face correctly to send them a reassuring smile.  
  
By Charms, I was one step from vomiting my delicious Breakfast all over Professor Flitwick. Ron and Hermione fighting over something right in my ear, send the dazzling black spots closer to the middle of my vision.  
  
When the bell rang, I was the first out of class. I ducked into a broom closet and held my head in my hands, hoping that the near perfect darkness would help. It didn't. I sunk down and propped my back up against the wall, resting my head back against it too.  
  
I tried deep breaths and closed my eyes, struggling not to vomit. I didn't care if I was late to Umbridges class. Not vomiting was more important to me.  
  
My headache was making me weak and dizzy and nauseous. It also scared me too. They were never this bad. Never. I had inkling that the Wolfsbane had something to do with it.  
  
It was starting to hurt so bad that tears pricked in my eyes. I furiously rubbed at them.  
  
A sudden knock sounded at the door. Hermione and Ginny's head poked in.  
  
"You okay?" Ginny whispered.  
  
I tried to stick on a smile, probably failing miserably, "Yeah. My head just hurts a little." My voice, even though it was weak and wavering, stabbed into my brain and I squeezed my eyes shut, ducking my head down to rest on my knees. I heard the door close softly, though it felt like a gunshot in my ear before it opened again, wider this time, light from the hallway brightening my darkness.  
  
I felt someone grab my hands and wrap them loosely around a warm neck, before arms caught me underneath the crook of my knee and my back. I squinted my eyes open and saw that it was Fred picking me up bridal style.  
  
"I'm fine," I protested, though not moving from the embrace.  
  
He smiled and shook his head, "No you aren't. We're taking you to the Hospital Wing."  
  
"It won't help." I muttered, sulkily but nonetheless relaxed in his warm grip. Outside the closet was light and I crunched my eyes shut and buried my head in his chest to block it out.  
  
"Can you grab her bag?" Fred asked someone as he walked out of the closet. He took gentle steps obviously trying to not jostle me, but it didn't help much.  
  
"I might vomit on you." I whispered. Even though I could see him, I knew he grinned.  
  
"Just don't get it in the hair. I'd rather not sport Christmas colors for at least another ten months." I chuckled weakly, and burrowed deeper into his clothing. He smelled nice and I was happy that it didn't hurt my head to breathe him in.  
  
He carried me easily, even though bridal style was more taxing than piggy-back. His heart was smooth, and even, if a bit fast. I tightened my arms a bit around his neck as I sighed, content to be carried. I didn't care about my little crush right now. All I cared about was that there was a solid, warm, nice presence that I could hold onto when my own strength failed me.  
  
I felt him rest his cheek against the top of my head briefly as a word-less sign saying, "I'm here." I resisted the urge to tear-up again.  
  
"Thank you." I whispered out, moving my face to rest more in his neck area. My ear rested on his shoulder and if my eyes were open, I'm sure I'd be able to see his neck as his pulse thudded and his Adam's apple bobbed.  
  
He didn't say anything but tightened his arms around me so I knew he'd heard. A forgein hand rubbed my back and I knew it was either Ginny or Hermione, maybe even George.  
  
Finally we made it to the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey was shocked.  
  
"Deary, is she okay? Is she hurt?" I could practically feel her fluttering around us and she led Fred somewhere, probably over to a bed.  
  
"It's her head. I hear it's been bothering her all day." I felt Fred sit down on something cushion like and reposition me so that I was sitting on his lap, head still buried in his neck. I was grateful that I didn't have to let go of my comforting presence just yet.  
  
Madam Pomfrey's warm hand caught my chin and made me turn my head, just the motion of doing so made me internally wince.  
  
"Open your eyes, dear." she said. I slowly squinted them open, trying to take the light in small increments and finally got them open enough that I could see a vaugely blurry Madam Pomfrey standing in front of me, with a concerned looking George standing behind her, holding my bag. Obviously he was the comforting hand.  
  
Madam Pomfrey then without warning shined her wand straight into my eyes. Pain exploded in my head and I gasped, tearing away from Fred and throwing myself towards the waste bin, finally vomiting up every ounce of my breakfast, feeling just as weak and horrid as I did this morning after the change stopped.  
  
Warm fingers smoothed around my hairline, gathering up my hair and holding it back, and I heaved. I felt the hand falter while going up but thought nothing of it since my mind was on the pain in my skull and the up heaving of my stomach.  
  
I heard Fred whispering comforting nothings into my ear and rubbing my back in slow circles. George stood behind him and had his hand on my shoulder.  
  
"Oh dear..." I heard Madam Pomfrey mutter, before shuffling off quickly, somewhere in the direction of her office. Every time I heaved, pain thudded in the front of my brain, making my eyeballs feel like they're six times too big and a clamp was slowly squishing my temples together.  
  
Finally when there was nothing more in my stomach and all I was doing was dry heaving, I sat back, wiping my mouth on my shirt sleeve. I was sweaty from vomiting and was even weaker than before.  
  
"Sorry." I whispered. I felt bad that Fred and George had to comfort me. They should be in class. I should be able to handle this on my own. But I had never been rendered completely helpless by a headache before... I was only helpless during the change, but never after.  
  
"For what?" I heard George whisper and he laid an arm around my shoulders. Fred was still holding my hair and rubbing circles.  
  
"You shouldn't have to be here, helping me." I felt like an inconvience for some reason. Like I was bothering them...  
  
"Ariel, focus on getting better." Fred said gently. "We can talk about your payment later." I managed a weak smile. Trying to push up from the ground so I could sit on the bed, I fell dizzily back down as the blackness rushed in. My head felt hot and light and the black dots were back again. I felt George lift me up this time, strong hands pulling me up from my ribs. They sat me on the bed and took spots on both sides of me.  
  
I pulled my knees up and rested my sweaty forehead on them. I felt tired, and achy, and sore, and just all around horrid. Madam Pomfrey came back with a dark blue potion that seemed to have little sparkles in it and a dark pink one that was swirled with white.  
  
She poured two individual cups that had the different potions in them. She handed me the pink and white one first.  
  
"It's a pain-killer; it's the strongest one we have so it should stop your headache." I didn't tell her that pain-killers never worked and took it anyway, hoping that I might be lucky enough to have it kick in. It tasted like strawberries and crème, though I could've guessed that.  
  
The second one she handed me was a sleeping draught. "You need rest," she said and started adding "for last night." before she remembered and stopped. Fred and George didn't react. The sleeping potion tasted like warm milk with vanilla and sugar.  
  
It took a minute to kick in and by that time, I was laying back in the bed, curled up on my side, as Fred smoothed my hair and George rubbed my arm. If I ever get sick again, I'm calling George and Fred for help. Who would've known that they're so... caring? Which sounded horrible but not many friends would've carried me all the way to the Hospital Wing and comforted me as I was breaking.  
  
I fell asleep to a warm hand on my cheek and a small chuckle of laughter that made me smile.  
  
It was about seven when I woke up. I was relieve to find that my headache was just a faint ache and I no longer wanted my eyeballs to explode to relieve the pressure. I wasn't surprised when I noticed that I was still extremely tired but I was gonna wait until the normal bed-time to pass out again.  
  
I sat up and noticed that on my bedside table was brightly colored box. "Cure-All Candies" was printed in fat, bubbly letters. I read on.  
  
 _"If you're not feeling well, don't worry! This box will take care of you by offering a choice selection of ailment remedies in non-assuming candy form. Includes, Laughing Licorice, Cougher-Stopper, and Max-Health Chocolate among many others!"_  
  
I grinned, mentally thanking Fred and George, because I knew it was from them. Opening the box, I took out a Max-Health Chocolate and laughed as I saw it was in a band-aid shape with a pink heart in the middle. Nibbling on the end of it, I felt it melt in my mouth, rushing sparks of health into my body. My headache completely faced away and I wrapped the piece back up to munch on my way to the common room.  
  
I was a bit sad that I missed dinner since I was hungry again but I would rather have my headache be gone and hungry than have a headache and be full. I felt better than I had all day. My werewolf DNA was kicking in and I was hardly sore anymore, and I was sure with a good workout, the stiffness would fade completely.  
  
Slipping out of the covers, I put my socked feet into my boots and just stuck the laces inside since I was too lazy to tie them. I shrugged into my robe, and hoisted my bag onto my shoulder. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, writing when I walked into the doorway.  
  
"Hey, I'm up again. I wanted to thank you for the potions. I feel much better now." I nodded, smiling. She looked relieved.  
  
"Well, next time, if a headache starts just come straight here; don't let it get that bad again." she ordered, lightly shaking a finger at me. I agreed, especially if I was able to get out of class to sleep off my headache.  
  
I walked slowly to the Common Room, munching on the chocolate some more. I tried to walk lightly and gently, limiting the jostling of my head in case the headache started again.  
No one was out and the corridors were dim but still somehow comforting. I got to the portrait of the Fat Lady and gave the password.  
  
"Snorklelatus." She swung open with a wink and a smile and I gave her one right back.  
  
Inside the common room, I saw the Trio, Gred, Ginny, and Lee in the armchairs by the fire. Hermione was reading a book on the big couch while Harry and Ron played chess. Ginny, Lee, Fred and George were playing Exploding Snap and from Ginny's grin, I was sure she was winning.  
  
I clambered through the portrait hole as I finished my chocolate, the smooth treat warm on my taste-buds. Hermione looked up first. She shot up straight, book closing in her lap.  
  
"Ariel!" Instantly, everyone's head turned in my direction and I smiled. Hermione pulled up her feet and I took that as an invitation to sit down, dropping my bag by the leg of the couch.  
  
"How are you? Do you feel any better?" Harry asked, returning to the chess board.  
  
"A lot actually. Madam Pomfrey gave me a pain-killer and a sleeping draught and I passed out and woke up all better." I shot a glance at Fred and George and from their grin, could tell that they understood. I was thanking them for the box of Cure-All Candies.  
  
"I'm glad your better. That must have been a killer head-ache." Ginny said, placing a card into the shaking pile. There was a moment of silence that confused me. They were all shooting glances at me as if I was really okay or not. I had the feeling I was forgetting something.  
Brushing off the feeling, I went to ask about what I missed when my stomach let out a loud gurgle.  
  
Everybody looked at me, while I looked down at my stomach laughing. Hermione rolled her eyes and the rest of the group chuckled.  
  
"That's our queue." In unison, Fred and George stood up and walked towards the portal.  
  
Ginny yelled after them, enraged.  
  
"Hey! Get back here! I was winning!" They stopped and turned around.  
  
"Calm down, Ginerva." George said. Ginny flushed.  
  
"We're helping a damsel in distress!" Fred went on.  
  
"You should be proud of us!" They through up their hands in mock-exasperation. I laughed.  
  
"We'll be back in a second." Bowing, and tipping imaginary hats, they backed out of the room and were gone.  
  
Ginny was still grumbling.  
  
I spoke up, "I'll play with you, Ginny. I'll take Fred and George's spot." She brightened and instantly got down to business. She was apparently up three or four points and very close to winning. I made sure I paid extra attention to the piles and stayed away from the ones that I could tell were a step away from combusting.  
  
It wasn't long before Fred and George came back like they said and by that time, I was a point away from Ginny's score and she was fighting valiantly. When I looked up, acknowledging their return, I saw that they had in their arms plates upon plates of food.  
  
My stomach gave another loud gurgle and I laughed.  
  
"For me?" I asked, smiling cutely at them.  
  
"Of course, my dear lady."  
  
"A true gentleman would never leave a lady in the throws of hunger." They nodded very seriously, the corners of their lips quirking dangerously. I grinned at them.  
  
I got up from their spot and sat on the couch while they placed the food on the rest of the open area on the table. Before sitting down, I kissed them both on the cheek, thanking them for getting me food. George smiled at me and Fred did too, though his cheeks were close to immediate danger of catching fire.  
  
I sat down next to them and watched at the game finished up. I had just gotten down with my second Sheppard’s Pie when Ginny and Lee won with Fred and George a point behind. While they were setting up for another game, I asked, "Where'd you guys get the food anyway?" And then handed a muffin to Hermione since she'd politely asked for one.  
  
Fred and George looked affronted. "Reveal thy secrets? What is this blasphemy?" They looked at each other in horror. "Yonder wench is trifling in episodes not her own. What ever shall we do?" And then, they outraged faces slowly darkened into evil grins, an obvious mental conversation having taken place. Instantly, every sense was on alert. They were planning something...  
  
Just as I set down my Sheppard’s Pie to ready myself, Georges hand shot out and I scrambled backwards. They rushed after me and I was off the ground, standing up and running away before anyone but us three knew what was happening. Chasing after me, they followed me around the Common Room, trying to corner me. I had to duck and weave around people and furniture before coming up with a plan.  
  
I sprinted up the girls’ dormitory stairs and stood panting near the first curve, several stairs up and out of reach. Fred and George, not yet comprehending that I was on the girls stairs, started up after me, before the steps they were on turned to a slope and they were crashing to the bottom in a heap. Giggling, I used the moment to tie up my boots real quick while they figured out their next move.  
  
They got to their feet, the smiles on their faces telling me that they still had another trick up their sleeve. George pulled out his wand and waved it at the stairs that reconstructed themselves immediately.  
  
What?...  
  
I barely had time to think before they were rushing up the stairs to me. Luckily, there was a small barrier between the girls’ stairs and the boys’ stairs that I vaulted over, ducking beneath their hands. Both of them stopped quickly though and I had barely put my foot down on the carpet when they barreled into me and we were all sent head over heels into a pile of limbs.  
  
I ended up with my head of George's stomach and my legs across Fred's. They were grinning like Christmas Day, and I tried to laugh along with but the dog pile had bumped about 90% of my… bruises…  
  
Oh crap… That’s what I forgot. I blinked and pushed myself up from George’s stomach.  
  
Looking at them, I saw that both of them were focused on my jaw, where I knew blue splotches were apparent still. Instantly, I shot up, hair falling forward again to cover my jaw but I knew that they had already seen. They had seen at the Hospital Wing when I was puking my guts up and they had seen when we had fallen. And they had told everyone about them.  
  
I looked towards the couch and saw that the group over there was looking at me too. They knew what just had occurred. I had to think fast.  
  
“It’s nothing to worry about,” I started, putting up a grin that was remarkably good for how shaken I felt. God, how could I have been so stupid?... “It was this dumb Veela reaction to the potion we did the day before yesterday. Remember? It was the Potion of Voicelessness? That’s why I’ve been sick. I asked Dumbledore about it this morning after breakfast. He said that since a Veela’s main defense is her ability to trap people in song, her body naturally fights the effects of the potion. Snape had us try our potions yesterday so that’s why I’ve been feeling so crappy.”  
  
I struggled to look calm. They didn’t all look convinced but I’d rather have a lie that made sense than the truth which was so much worse… They seemed to accept my answer, for now at least, and I made a mental note to be much more careful in the future. I just had to fool them for the next six months.  
  
I’d be surprised if I lasted three.


	10. The Act of Losing

“Practice today, Vanderwik.” Angelina said to me the week after at breakfast. I just nodded since my mouth was full of hash-browns. Pulling a Ron is not okay.  
  
Things had gotten a bit more normal after last weeks confrontation. My bruises were gone, along with the curious and skeptical stares from my friends. Everything seemed to be back to how it was before, if a little awkward but I had faith it would dissipate soon.  
  
There seemed to be more questions though…  
  
“So Ariel, have you ever kissed a boy?” This came from Ginny, who was staring at me innocently as I choked on my once delicious, now deadly hash-browns. Everyone seemed a bit shocked at the question too and stared at Ginny like she was insane. I agreed.  
  
“Where did this come from?” I asked, after I had cleared my airway of the dangerous break-fast chunks. She just shrugged non-committed, and pressed, “Have you?”  
  
I actually had to think back a bit. There was a kiss on a cheek from a boy in my 3rd grade class on a dare. Once I got bitten though, I pulled away from everyone so there wasn’t anyone to kiss…  
  
“No.” I said finally. She seemed a bit surprised.  
  
“Why not?” she demanded.  
  
Crap… Think fast, Ariel… “Uh- I didn’t like anyone?” That was true too. Besides the fact that there was no one there, the boys in my class never caught my attention.  
  
Ginny didn’t seem satisfied but stayed silent as she frowned down at her breakfast.  
  
Hermione spoke up next, though she said it quiet enough that just I heard “Do you like anyone now?”  
  
I choked on my breakfast again and started to think that they were trying to kill me instead of learning more about me. Harry and Ron stared at me as I choked before looking to Hermione who was leaned in close.  
  
“What she’d say?” Ron asked; Harry looked to be trying not to laugh.  
  
I just shook my head, blushing. Ginny was watching me again, as if she knew what Hermione had asked. Glancing at Hermione, I saw she was watching me too, with a knowing look as she caught sight of my red cheeks.  
  
Should I tell them that I was pretty sure I had a crush on Fred? Surely there wouldn’t be any harm in that… And I knew that both Ginny and Hermione were intuitive enough to figure it out sooner or later since I was damn sure that this crush wasn’t going to go away.  
I opened my mouth to reply when two hands were put on my shoulder, startling me. Without even looking behind me, I could tell by the smell that it was Fred and George.  
  
“Good morning, Ace.” They said in unison.  
  
“Morning.” I replied.  
  
“We have something very-”  
  
“Gigantically-”  
  
“life-changingly-”  
  
“fantastic-”  
  
“to ask you.”  
  
I turned around on the seat and looked up at them expectantly, smiling at their verbal antics.  
  
Glancing at each other, they grinned.  
  
“There comes a time, several times actually, in every school year-” George began, wrapping an arm around Fred’s shoulder.  
  
“that a treacherous voyage is taken.” continued Fred.  
  
“Very treacherous, Fred.”  
  
“How treacherous, George?”  
  
“Oh, bloody treacherous, Fred. There be snow- four inches high!”  
  
“And hidden dips that send your ankles a-spraining!”  
  
“And rambunctious kiddies!”  
  
“And teachers!” they said in unison.  
  
“How horrid!” I played along, giggling. Hermione was chuckling a bit also, though she was rolling her eyes. They nodded seriously.  
  
“Very horrid. But you mustn’t worry, fine lady.”  
  
“For we will protect you from the four inch snow,”  
  
“the hidden dips,” By this time, they were clutching their fists in the air and putting on tough faces.  
  
“and the rambunctious kiddies. But not the teachers. You’ll have to fend for yourself on that one.” I gasped in mock outrage, but laughed a second later.  
  
“We will protect you from all that, if you will honor us by letting yourself be escorted along this treacherous voyage by these handsome devils.” Pointing at each other, they winked at me and grinned in conclusion.  
  
“Where will this treacherous voyage end us up at?” I asked, trying not to get distracted by Fred’s crooked “I-do-funny-things-to-your-insides” grin.  
  
“A magical place called-” they started but were interrupted by Ron, who looked a bit irritated.  
  
“Hogsmeade. They’re asking you to come with them to Hogshead.” Fred and George frowned at him.  
  
“Ron,” Ginny abashed, “You ruined it.” Apparently, she was enjoying the Twin’s antics too. Ron just rolled his eyes.  
  
“Sure. But don’t you need a permission slip to go?” I tapped my nose, thinking.  
  
George and Fred looked at each other, “Yeah, you don’t have one?”  
  
I just shook my head.  
  
“We can fix that!” they smiled and grabbed one of my hands each, pulling me up from the seat.  
  
“Wait- my breakfast!” I pulled back, trying to sit down again but The twins gripped tightened.  
  
“We can get stuff from the kitchen after. You need to be able to come to Hogshead!” They said, pulling me towards the doors. I barely got out another protest before I was yanked through; my friends laughter following me.  
  
They pulled me along, each holding one of my hands, though my left one was burning with sparks from Fred’s warm fingers. The contact was nice and made me smile faintly. George let go after a bit, but Fred held on for a while after.  
  
“Where are we going?” I asked, since I was having trouble paying attention to the direction we were heading as my hand sparked. Apparently, me speaking was Fred’s queue to let go of my hand and I mourned the loss of delicious sparks.  
  
George spoke, “McGonagall’s Office. We’re hoping she can sort this all out.” They were walking at a fast pace, that my shorter legs had trouble keeping up with. Damn them and their long legs.  
  
I finally got fed up at having to jog to keep up. “Fred,” I pouted, sticking out my bottom lip and stopping where I was. He glanced behind and saw that I had stopped.  
  
“What?” George now had stopped too. Wordlessly, I stuck out my arms, motioning what I wanted. He dramatically sighed, walked back over, and crouched a bit. Instantly, my pout disappeared and I clambered on, wrapping my arms around his neck loosely. His arms went back and wrapped under my thighs, palms resting on the bottom of them, hot on the bare skin.  
  
The warmth sent goose-bumps up my body, along with a shiver. Nice. I rested my chin on his shoulder and tilted my head so that it leaned against his. I could see out of the corner of my eye bright orange hair that I liked so much. It was artfully messy today, identical to George’s but for some reason, so much more attractive and distracting. Not that George’s wasn’t cute but Fred’s… You understand.  
  
I leaned back a bit and unwrapped one of my arms. Not even fighting the compulsion, I ran a hand through the orange strands. They were just as soft and amazing as I had imagined. The motion tickled my palm and I grinned. One hand wasn’t enough, so I unwrapped the other and tightened my thighs to compensate for it.  
  
Taking both hands, I shifted through the strands, feeling and pulling softly. Fred’s head dropped forward and he sighed. I saw on the exposed skin of his neck, that goose bumps trailed down under his shirt collar. The sight made me laugh.  
  
He cleared his throat, pulling his head back up and glancing back at me, “What are you doing?”  
  
I didn’t stop my hands and didn’t take my eyes off the orange strands, “Have I ever told you that I love your hair?”  
  
I heard him laugh, felt the rumble of it through his chest which my stomach rested on from the close proximity of being carried.  
  
“No,” he said, “but you’re welcome to love it anytime you want from now on. This feels brilliant.” At his saying this, George looked over.  
  
“Keep it PG.” He said dryly. I laughed and stuck my tongue out at him.  
  
Fred, from the motion of his head I guessed, rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous. I get to have a pretty girl hang all over me and get a massage.”  
  
George stopped, looking shocked, “You’re right. Ariel, my turn.”  
  
“No. Get your own bird.” Fred’s arms tightened on my legs and he picked up his pace.  
  
“No fair!” George called, running to catch up with us. By that time, we were at McGonagall’s Office and I was smiling like an idiot.  
  
Fred set me down as George knocked on the door. We heard a chair scrape from inside- or I guess, I heard the chair scrape since my senses were higher- before the door opened to show a disgruntled Professor McGonagall. She glared at us and I got the distinct impression that Umbridge was just by.  
  
“Yes?” She said shortly, staring suspiciously at the Twins. They just grinned a Weasley Twin Grin, not at all deterred by the cold stare.  
  
“Miss Vanderwik here would like to go to Hogsmeade but lacks a permission slip.” They said together, wrapping an arm around my shoulder each.  
  
Her attention turned to me and I gave a small smile.  
  
“I’ll get you a slip to send to your parents.” She said and turned around, leaving the door open.  
  
“Uh- Professor?” She stopped and turned around. I cleared my throat, “I don’t have any parents…” Fred and George stiffened next to me. Professor McGonagall’s stare turned from irritation to a sadness that was uncomfortably close to pity. I stood up straighter.  
  
“Go to Dumbledore and he’ll get it all sorted out.” She spoke finally, waving her wand at her desk. A sheet of paper flew from a drawer of her desk and into my hand. I nodded and turned to leave with the Twins.  
  
“Miss Vanderwik,” she continued, “Pepper Imps.” And then closed the door. It was a cryptic message but I understood. It was the password to Dumbledore’s Office.  
  
“C’mon.” I said, pulling from the Twins arms and beginning to walk. When I didn’t hear them follow, I turned around and saw them staring at me.  
  
“What?”  
  
“We’re sorry.” George declared, wearing a serious expression that was identical to Fred’s, “We didn’t know and wouldn’t have pulled you here if we did.”  
  
I laughed a bit, “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal. So I don’t have parents. I was orphaned a long time ago.” I shrugged, blowing off the whole incident.  
  
When they didn’t say anything I walked back to them and grabbed one of their hands each, pulling them forward, “Let’s go, I wanna go to Hogsmeade!”  
  
Though seemingly very reluctant, they moved and soon, we were on our way to Dumbledore’s office. They were still quiet and I was vaguely irritated.  
  
“Can you guys please go back to normal? Look, I lost my parents. Lots of people have. I’m fine now and there’s no reason to be weird about it.”  
  
“Okay.” They said slowly. In unison, they squeezed my hand, before letting go, stepping up level to me, and wrapping an arm around my body. Georges was around my shoulders and Fred has his arm around my waist.  
  
“Thank you. So what product are you guys working on currently?” Anything to get a decent conversation going. And it did. Before I knew it, they were talking over themselves in excitement to tell me all about their current experiment.  
  
“Well take you to the Room of Requirement when we’re done here and show you. And we can spend the day there; since we know you love to spend time with us.” I laughed.  
  
“I guess I’m just masochistic like that.”  
  
We walked up to the Griffin statue right then and I gave the password.  
  
“Pepper Imps.” With a lurch, the Griffin began twirling upwards and I stepped onto the appearing step. George and Fred stepped onto the next one. Looking up, they grinned.  
  
“Wicked.” Finally the thick wooden door came into view and I knocked three times. It creaked open and Professor Dumbledore sat as his desk, looking as if he’d been waiting for us.  
  
“Hello Professor.” We greeted.  
  
“Good morning. What can I do for you?”  
  
I walked forward and took a plush chair, sinking into it comfortably, feet no longing touching the ground but swinging vaguely childishly. Fred and George squished into the other one looking crumpled.  
  
“I want to go to Hogsmeade but don’t have a permission slip filled out and since I don’t have parents, I don’t know what to do about it.”  
  
Dumbledore ‘Hmm’ed and tapped his chin. “Well, you could send it to your Orphanage director.” I crinkled my nose. The Mistress who ran it wasn’t exactly the best caretaker. Dumbledore saw my expression and laughed.  
  
“Obviously, the Director is a bit inadequate.”  
  
“Professor, do you mind if I just sign it? I mean, I know I’m underage but I take care of myself really. The orphanage is just a place I live but really, I’m the one who is in charge of me.” I tried to explain but it was a bit hard unless you’ve done it yourself.  
  
Dumbledore thought for a moment before waving his wand. The paper slipped from my fingers and settled in front of him at his desk. He grabbed a quill from nearby and scribbled along the signature line. He handed the paper back to me then, smiling, “Have a good time.”  
  
“Thanks, Professor. I will.” Before I knew it, we were out of the Office and on our way to the Room of Requirement. I spent the next few hours in the company of Fred and George, laughing at their jokes and helping them with their projects. Not that I helped much.  
  
I was decent at potions and could get a passable grade when Snape wasn’t dropping my samples but Fred and George blew me out of the water. When they put their minds to it, they could do anything.  
  
…Don’t tell them I said that. They’re already cocky enough.  
  
By the next weekend, I was all excited and riled up. I was finally going to Hogsmeade which I had heard so much about from my friends. Even though the day started off questionable.  
  
Now, to be clear, we had the whole day to go to Hogsmeade and hang out and all that jazz so why Fred and George woke me up at the crack of freaking dawn, is beyond me. I’d woken up early once the whole time I’d been there and that was when it had snowed.  
  
Don’t get me wrong, I was excited beyond reason so go to Hogsmeade but that didn’t mean that I wanted to wake up before every other person in the castle. And they scared the be-jeezues out of me too.  
  
I woke up to their charming faces leaning over my bed and nearly pissed my pants. I’m not saying that Fred’s face (and I guess Georges too) wasn’t completely horrendous to see first thing you wake up, in fact it was quite fantastic, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it.  
  
For one thing, my bladder hurt because it took everything in me not to pee myself and peeing my pants in front of two very hot teenage boys would probably keep my cheeks errantly pink.  
  
Second, I was confused.  
  
“How did you get up here?” I spoke softly as not to wake up any of the other girls, once I could shift my focus from my bladder and racing heart to the fact that they were in the girls’ dormitories. They rolled their eyes in a very Weasely Twin way and looked at me as if I had just asked “Why don’t people like Snape?”  
  
“We figured out how to get up here our second year.” George whispered.  
  
“Honestly.” Fred said in a very, looking at me in such a way that gave me the impression that I should know this.  
  
I rolled my eyes then rolled onto my stomach, desperately trying to go back to sleep. George and Fred apparently didn’t approve of this option. They ripped back my blanket, exposing my pajama clad body to the cold air. I made a noise of displeasure.  
  
Now, it wasn’t that big of a deal but a strappy tank-top and sweats didn’t do much to keep you warm after going from a temperature of more that freezing to water-partials-in-the-air freeze cold.  
  
It effectively brushed away the last of the sleepy cob-webs from the recesses of my brain but I stubbornly just pushed my face further into my delicious pillow.  
  
Suddenly though, I felt a finger, warm and one that sent electricity curling in my stomach touch one of the streaks of scar tissue running down my back. The touch brought memories flooding to my mind.  
  
A darkened, ransacked house.  
  
The warm spray of blood, spattered onto my face.  
  
The terror that blocked my throat as the too-large to be real shadow walked towards me, laughing, mocking…  
  
Instantly, I shot up and out of the bed by way of the foot of it. Standing in the middle of the room, I yanked the hair-tie out of my hair, letting it cascade down my back and effectively covering the scars.  
  
I clenched my eyes shut and refused to look at them. I heard their breathing, I heard the other girls’ breathing, and I heard my heart beat, too loud and too fast. It was thudding in my ears.  
  
Swallowing with difficulty, I lifted my lids to look at the Twins, my expression betraying nothing.  
  
“I’ll meet you downstairs.” My tone was clipped and short, leaving no room for discussion. They nodded and silently left the room.  
  
I could handle the dreams the week of the full moon. I could get past them but just that. Anymore re-caps was too much for me to handle. Too much for me to deal with when I couldn’t preoccupy myself with worrying about the full moon.  
  
God, I hated re-living what happened when my parents were killed every night during the full moon; I hated it even more when it could all come rushing back to me from a single touch.  
  
And the Twins saw it too. They saw the scars and one of them even touched the marks. They knew about them- would more than likely ask about them and as much as I desperately wanted them, and every one of my other friends to know about what I was, I couldn’t go through with recounting the events to which I got the disease.  
  
All of those flashes of pain and shadow and that terrible laughter smashed around in my brain and I felt weak, tiny again, sad. I wanted someone to hold me- I didn’t want to be strong.  
  
But I couldn’t break down; I hadn’t for five years and I certainly wasn’t going to now just because I was faced with horrible memories. My past was not going to ruin my future any more that it already is.  
  
So, with a deep breath and a straightening of my spine, I dug through my trunk for an outfit, suitable for such an occasion as walking to Hogsmeade.  
  
I decided with my grey petticoat and a white long-sleeved shirt underneath, dark skinny jeans, my red hat and gloves and my turquoise boots with a double pair of socks. It was a simple process of throwing my hair up in a side-messy-bun to finish the look.  
  
I grabbed my wand, some money, and took a minute to brush my teeth and pee before heading down the stairs and throwing a smile on my face, determined to force the conversation away from the scar incident.  
  
I found the two sitting on the couch in front of the fire and among the few people in the Common Room that early on a weekend. And if you’re wondering what time it was, it was around 9:00 and about three hours earlier than I would’ve gotten up normally.  
  
They were talking with their heads close together, whispering, obviously conversing something that they didn’t want anyone else to hear.  
  
“It’s impolite to whisper in front of people.” I admonished, smiling. They’re head shot towards me and fell into an easy, probably habit induced grin.  
  
“Since when have we ever been polite, Ace?” They asked simultaneously, tilting their heads and quirking an eyebrow.  
  
I rolled my eyes, “Your mother must be so proud.” I plopped between them, glad that the atmosphere still felt comfortable after the awkward morning.  
  
“Is there a reason you woke me up this early?” I yawned, dropping my head onto Fred’s shoulder and shutting my eyes. I may have been startled awake this morning but if anything that made me even more tired- the Twins seemed wide-awake.  
  
“We have a lot planned today so we need the most time we could reasonably get. We figured that nine was a safe enough time to wake you up without you hexing us into unidentifiable blobs. Not that you, the oh-so level-headed one who never looses her temper, would ever do that.”  
  
I snorted.  
  
“Right ‘cause this girl didn’t punch Malfoy on her first day here.”  
  
“One of the many reasons why we’re trying to make this day so special- that kind of event needs commemorating properly done, not just a mob in the Common Room.”  
  
I leaned back to peer up at Fred, a bit caught off guard by just how blue his eyes were this close.  
  
“Since when have you two ever been opposed to mobs?” They laughed at that before tugging me up.  
  
“Now c’mon, we have fun to have!” And with that, albeit loud, declaration, I was yanked through the Portal Door and out of the castle. Outside the air was sharp and tinted my nose and cheeks a bright red. It was like breathing in snow and smelled clean.  
  
It had snowed a little overnight, erasing all of yesterday’s action. I looked back and saw a trail of three sets of footprints emitting from behind us. Fred and George hooked one of my arms each as we walked, talking and laughing and joking.  
  
We came upon a little village with one main street that branched off into about half a dozen other, smaller ones. Hardly anyone was out this early in the morning but the shop windows were bright and welcoming, glowing with a holiday feel, even if those were long gone.  
  
They pointed out their favorite shops, among them being Zonko’s, a store infamous among our group. They lead me towards a place called Three Broomsticks first and we settled into the warm pub at a cozy corner table. George left to get us drink, leaving me with Fred whom was sprawled out on the bench with his head in my lap.  
  
Unconsciously, I ran my hand through his hair, loving the contrast between my skin and his strands; my gloves had been off since we got in.  
  
“Why do you like doing that so much?” he asked, seemingly honestly curious. I thought for a moment.  
  
“Because it feels nice.” I shrugged my shoulder, turning my attention from him to George who was walking back, expertly holding three golden mugs with foam at the top.  
  
“One for the fair maiden.” He winked as he settled one of the glasses in front of me, “and one for the pompous buffoon.” Fred snorted and sat up. The drink was warm and delicious and I quickly drank a good third of it.  
  
We sat and talked for a while, Fred and George laying out their plan of attack for the day. After we got up to leave, seemingly haven spoken in their mind, the Twins each pulled out half of the money owed.  
  
“I can pay for it guys.” I protested, separating what my cost was from what they put down. I pushed it back at them before reaching in my own pocket and pulling out the money. Fred and George rolled their eyes.  
  
“Then we get to buy you something.” I shook my head.  
  
“I’m fine. Honest. I don’t need anything and something happens to catch my eye, I can buy it myself.” They didn’t say anything and we just made our way out of the warm building. Outside, the cold was a slap in the face so we quickly hurried our butts over to the first shop on the agenda.  
  
Gladrags Wizardware was one of those shops were you felt like you were on a treasure hunt; digging through chests and racks of clothing, drawers and cabinets of sparkly jewelry. Unsurprisingly, I spent most of my time digging through the sparkly stuff than looking at clothing.  
  
Most of the time we spent at Gladrags, I watched and laughed as Fred and George modeled various articles of clothing for me, ranging from tuxes to chicken costumes. And yes, there was a dress or two. Note, Fred looks delicious in a tux. DELICIOUS.  
  
I ended up getting a new jacket, a navy blue military style one and feathered headband with peacock feathers. Fred and George spent the time that I was buying my clothing finding the ugliest pair of socks they could for each other.  
  
While they were buying their pairs of socks, I wandered over (again) to the sparkly jewelry. I think it was something about the veela in me but I couldn’t help myself. Digging through the cold bits of metal and jewels, I came across a ring that was a solid thick silver band that had tiny, intricate etchings of vines. It was simple but gorgeous and fit perfectly on my thumb.  
  
I thought about buying it but I didn’t want to spend all my money in one place so I put it back and walked back up to the Twins who were waiting patiently for me. Well, their type of patiently.  
  
Our next shop was Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop were we spent most of the time attacking George with the feathers since he was the most ticklish of all of us. We ended up knocking over a stand and chased out of the store. Needless to say, none of us bought anything from there.  
  
Fred and George then tugged me to Honeydukes Sweetshop. Now there was a store I could spend my life in.  
  
I about made myself sick on all of the samples, ended up turning my tongue a charming shade of parry-winkle, and made both of the Twins blush when I left a kiss shaped coating of sprinkles on their cheeks.  
  
One incident I remember the most from visiting Honeydukes with the Twins was when Fred ate a hiccupping Humbug and fell to the floor laughing and hiccupping, his face turning pink from lack of air.  
  
I had only a few Galleons left when we finally got to Zonko’s Joke Shop. I only bought one or two things there and spent the time watching Fred and George drool over the pranks and toys and excitedly “twin-speak” to each other. It consisted something of something like this:  
  
“Did you see that Fred?”  
  
“Yeah, George! What if we-“  
  
“Totally! And if-“  
  
“Brilliant! Especially-“  
  
“Agreed. We start-“  
  
“Makes sense.”  
  
It made me shake my head in wonderment, not knowing how either of them knew what was crossing through the others mind so easily. I just settled it with “They’re the Twins.”  
  
The boys spent most of their money at Zonko’s unsurprisingly and we exited into the cold outside, laughing and grinning.  
  
All of a sudden though, George took my bags from me and dropped them onto a bench before grabbing my hands and twirling me around.  
  
He pulled me along in circles, apparently dancing with me and humming an irregular tune for us to dance to. I just laughed and went along, ducking under his arm and twirling when he motioned. He even dipped me before pulling me back up, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and spinning me.  
  
He spun on his heels and balls of his feet multiple times, going faster than my eyes could keep up with. We ended up spilling into the snow, laughing and dizzy. It took a minute before we were able to get to our feet and brush the snow off.  
  
Noticing that I didn’t see Fred, I looked around and spotted him on the bench where my stuff was placed, looking amused and accomplished. Weird…  
  
Anyway, we gathered up our stuff and I ended up holding nothing because neither Fred or George let me carry my stuff back by myself. By that time, it was 3:52 and the sun was beginning to dip down into the hills, making the snow glow golden.  
  
We had just come in sight of the castle when we ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione walking towards Hogsmeade.  
  
“Hey Ariel!” Harry greeted, “How was your first trip to Hogsmeade?”  
  
I grinned, “Fantastic. Fred and George even got me my first butterbeer, which was absolutely delicious.”  
  
“They are pretty amazing.” Ron agreed, looking wistful.  
  
“You guys better head along before Ron ends up dying from withdrawals.” They laughed and trudged ahead.  
  
“Ariel- wait!” Fred and George stopped as I turned around and saw Hermione race towards me, something in her hand.  
  
“This came for you at breakfast.” It was a letter. From Remus Lupin. Right, I wrote to him a while ago.  
  
“Thanks.” I said, smiling.  
  
Hermione hesitated before leaning in and whispering so the Twins couldn’t hear, “I need to talk to you later, okay? Meet me in the Library at eight tonight.” Then she turned and was back to the boys before I could say good-bye.  
  
“What was that about?” George asked as I tucked the letter into my jacket.  
  
“Nothing- she just wants to talk to me.” I shrugged before laughing a bit and wrapping an arm around each of the Twins’ waists. “Now let’s see if we can’t wreck some havoc within those stone walls!”  
  
The next few hours were hilarious and perfect. I ate blue steak and green mashed potatoes for dinner thanks to the Twins and they now had bright purple hair which wasn’t reversible unless I did so.  
  
I’d like to think I had the better half of the deal.  
  
When eight rolled around, I got up from my game of Exploding Snap with the Twins and ran up to the girls’ dormitories to grab my boots which I had left up there when I had dropped off my purchases. There on my nightstand though, next to my wand was the silver ring, glinting in the moonlight.  
  
It was just as gorgeous as I remembered and for a moment I was struck speechless at the surprise of seeing it there. Then I smiled like an idiot because I knew exactly where it had come from.  
  
Fred.  
  
That’s why George danced with me and I saw him with that accomplished look on his face. Wasting no more time, I quickly slipped the cool ring onto my finger before gasping as it emitted sparkles for a second, warming up rapidly against my skin.  
  
Then it was back to normal, no sparkles, but no longer cold. I shook my head in wonderment. I raced down the stairs and tackled Fred as he was a second from placing a card onto a shaking pile.  
  
“Woah- Ace?” I kissed him solidly on the cheek, albeit closer to the mouth than I have other times, but I digress.  
  
“Thanks.” Was all I said and he smiled, because he knew what I was talking about. I got up and walked to the Portrait Hole.  
  
“By the way, I’d go for the pile next to it.” And then I was gone.  
  
Practically floating to the Library, I found Hermione in a deserted back corner, sitting in one of the plush armchairs but with no book in her lap. She seemed preoccupied.  
  
“Hey Hermione.” I greeted and took a seat on the table in front of her, smile still on my face.  
  
She shifted her gaze from the window to me and in that split glance, I knew something was up. The smile dropped and I frowned.  
  
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned. She just shook her head and stood up. I did so too, my nerves starting to scream for flight- though I couldn’t say why.  
  
Staring straight at me, her brown eyes not concerned but… committed. She opened her mouth,  
  
“I know you’re a werewolf.”


	11. The Act of Hopelessness

“I know you’re a werewolf.”  
  
There’s a feeling that you get when your world falls from under you in the split of a second. Your stomach simultaneously rips itself in half, jumping up to clog your throat and dropping down out of your body. Your heart stops then kick starts back up eight times faster. Your tongue swells and your mouth dries. Your palms get clammy.  
  
I guess it’s the adrenaline because the moment she said that, I wanted to run. I wanted to run away from the people who would stare and yell and mock and insult and hurt because they knew that I had a monster inside of me. They didn’t see me as Ariel anymore. They saw me as a werewolf.  
  
They saw me as a giant, hulking, bloody beast that ripped out throats of children and stalked the pitch black night. I was no longer a fifteen year old girl. I wasn’t even a human being anymore.  
  
I’ve had people cower and shy away from me. Like any moment I was going to transform and attack them. It made me want to cry.  
  
I couldn’t let Hermione know that she was right, that she could now turn away and leave me, alone and… ashamed I guess.  
  
I didn’t realize how strong I could be until I hitched a smile on my face, unclenched my hands, and calmed my breath.  
  
It took enormous effort to let out a small laugh as if I was amused with the whole accusation, “I’m not a werewolf.”  
  
Her eyes hardened and narrowed, glaring, “Cut the crap, Ariel. I know, okay? I’ve seen the signs, however peculiar they might be.”  
  
I felt my own smile, even though it was fake, drop and I glared at her right back, still fighting to change her mind to anything else but the truth.  
  
“And what exactly were the nonexistent signs, huh?” She was calling a bluff. She had an inkling of the truth and calling to see if I would admit it. She didn’t have proof. She couldn’t. Yet knowing Hermione…  
  
“At first, I thought you were just talented. Your reflexes were perfect, your speed with running and aim during the snowball fight gave a clue and when you played against Ginny, they were astounding. But that was just an observation then. Anyone could have good reflexes.  
  
“Then you got sick. Since I had a professor who was a werewolf, I’ve been keeping track of when the full moons are- out of curiosity and habit. You started feeling off the week before the moon, right? And then, the night of, you don’t re-appear in the dormitories after your meeting with McGonagall. Odd but I thought it was just coinciedence. People get sick all the time. But the next morning you come back looking a bit sleepless with a headache and bruises. The excuse you gave for the potion seemed plausible but not enough to stop me from getting the feeling that something was up.”  
  
She was pacing by now, glancing at me every few rounds. I felt fainter and fainter- Hermione was just more than observant and for someone with no “Inner Eye”, she was damn near physic.  
  
“I looked into Veelas. There was nothing about certain reactions to potions unless your full Veela. I was going to confront you about it before the letter came. You know the one. From Remus Lupin? Guess what- he was our old professor. The werewolf. Why would you be getting a letter from him? If I hadn’t seen the bruises, or known about the nonexistent reactions to the potion for the excuse you gave, I wouldn’t have known. But now I do.  
  
“Once I looked at who sent the letter, it all clicked in place. The drawing of the moon on the scrap of paper you taped to my forehead the morning of the snowball fight. The reflexes. The sickness near the full moon. The nightmares. The bruises and headache the day after. Even though the bruises aren’t normal, it made sense in some scientific way- the encounter of werewolf venom and Veela blood. The theory could hold if need be to fit the accusation. It all fits.”  
  
She stopped pacing to turn and stare at me. Her glare had disappeared and now all she looked is sad.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me? Or all of us for that matter. We’re your friends, Ariel. We wouldn’t have judged you.”  
  
For some reason, even though I knew she was spot on, I felt the need to fight. I couldn’t deal with my friends knowing and then treating me differently. I loved them too much to handle that.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about or what your problem is. I’m not a werewolf. Whatever you think you know, whatever your reasons are, are complete crap and absolutely superficial. You’re reading between lines that don’t exist.” My hands clenched again, trying to stop the shaking. Hermione just shook her head, eyes squeezing shut.  
  
“Stop lying, Ariel. I know what you are and soon Ginny and Harry and Ron and the Twins will know too-” I sucked in a breath “They deserve to know and I can’t sit there while they are ignorant.”  
  
“It’s not your secret to tell!” I yelled, eyes stinging with tears of anger and frustration, “It’s mine! You have no right to tell them when it doesn’t concern you!”  
  
“Of course it concerns me! What if you’re out doing a late-night food run or prank with the Twins and change and hurt them! They may not be my best friends but I’ll still protect them- and they deserve to know.”  
  
I glared at her, angry at her for figuring it out so easily, so soon and not giving me an option to keep my own secret to myself.  
  
“I’d never hurt any of my friends- I’m scared enough to be with them as it is.” As if a drain being pulled, all the anger was gone and I felt empty. Tired. And oh-so alone. “Please, Hermione. Don’t tell them. I will but just give me time. I can’t do it this soon.”  
  
“You have until the next full moon. The sooner they know, the sooner they’ll be out of danger.” And then she was gone. My knees gave out a minute later and I couldn’t take a deep enough breath. What was she going to do? What would they say? I wanted to break down- rip out my heart so I wouldn’t feel the pain of being abandoned again. Except I couldn’t do that; I couldn’t break down since I’m not one to crash at the first sign of difficulty.  
  
But honestly? I was scared. Terrified. I was terrified of the future and I couldn’t do anything about it so I just sat there, distantly noting how the stone was chilling against my bare knees. The library was quiet.  
  
Taking a deep breath that hurt my lungs, I straightened up my spine. Taking it one step at a time, I took another deep breath and raised my chin. Slowly, but surely, I got up from the floor and made my way carefully out of the library. Who knows how long I’d been sitting there, but I saw a distinct light coming from behind the hills.  
  
I’d been sitting there all night. Silently, I made my way to the Gryffindor Common Room and snuck inside. There was no one there but that didn’t seem so odd. The way up to the girls bedrooms was quiet and still- it was like I was the only one alive in the world until I made my way into the 5th years bedrooms and the sound of sleeping reached my ears.  
  
My mind miles away from my body, I slowly dressed down for bed and climbed into the cool sheets.  
  
I had three weeks. Actually, 20 days 13 hours, and 45 seconds. And it was ticking away too fast.  
  
For the next few days before Easter Break, I could hardly look at Hermione- or any of my friends for that matter.  
  
My stomach was constantly in knots and I swear they knew already- which was dumb. Hermione was being unfair with this time limit but I knew she wouldn’t break it. I couldn’t sleep at all either. There were constantly pale bags underneath my eyes from staying awake all night, staring at the ceiling, my mind running rampant with worry.  
I wasn’t eating much either- which only added to the weirdness that I was now emitting.  
  
I got curious stares from the Twins and Ginny and had built up a new nervous habit of twirling my new ring around my thumb. I took refuge in the Room of Requirement, imagining a place to just be alone.  
  
It did a pretty good job of that too. There was a hammock and the ever constant sound of crickets and a stream, bubbling somewhere that did wonders for my sanity.  
  
How could I ever face my friends, if they knew I was a monster? Would they be angry with me? Never speak to me again? My heart constricted painfully until my breath went shallow and I had to force myself to take bigger breaths.  
  
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t take being abandoned again…  
  
A few days later, when I had two weeks left before Hermione told every one, spring break started. I’d been invited earlier to spend it with the Weasley’s so I spent the morning packing up my bags. I was trying hard to be normal, to ignore my aching insides and felt like I was doing a pretty good job of it even though it wasn’t easy to convince myself that everything wasn’t crashing down around my ears.  
  
Ginny was talking animatedly about how fun this spring break was going to be while I “uh-hummed” and nodded at the correct times.  
  
“Now, you’ll have to get Fred and George to show you their gnome cannon. Mum doesn’t know anything about it so keep it hush-hush. And then there’s the ghoul in the attic that I’m warning you about now.” Ginny said as she sat on her bags to get the clothes to fit better.  
  
“Uh-hum.” I replied. My gaze had shifted to the distant hills outside the window and I felt a dull pang in my heart, from the want to be alone.  
  
“I’m also planning to become a stripper and marry Draco Malfoy. We’re gonna have 26 kids and I will name each one after a letter in the alphabet.”  
  
“Uh-hu- wait, what?” My eyes shot over to Ginny in confusion. She was standing now, in front of her bag with her arms crossed over her chest. Crap- defensive position, a narrowing in the eyes, eyebrow cocked. She had questions.  
  
“What’s going on, Ariel?” Ginny asked, eyes softening.  
  
I shook my head, “Nothing.”  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes, obviously not believing it. “Seriously.” She said.  
  
“Nothing! I swear, I’m absolutely peachy!” Trying to make a quick escape, I grabbed my bag and dragged it over to the open door.  
  
“Ariel, you can talk to m-” Ginny began but I was already down the stairwell and towards the crowded common room below. I heard from up here Fred and George’s riotous laughter and tried valiantly to stick a smile on my face, grinding down my sense of hopelessness with pure desperation. I couldn’t handle any more questions.  
  
“Ariel! You’re finally ready! Is Ginny almost done? We’ll miss the train if we wait any longer!” George cried, catching sight of me on the stairs. He bounded up to me and ripped the suitcase from my hand.  
  
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll carry it for you.”  
  
“I-“ Sighing, I just shook my head; you have to pick your arguments with the Twins. Hearing clumping behind me, I knew Ginny was on her way down so I quickly got out of the way. Fred was standing over by a pile of bright orange luggage that I assumed were his and George’s. I sidled over to him.  
  
“Hey Fred.”  
  
“Hey Ace. You excited for spring break?” he had his trademark smile on but there was something about his eyes that didn’t quite fit. Sure they sparkled in the normal Twin way but there was a coldness underneath that was calculating, taking in all of me and trying to make some kind of deduction. He was also trying to figure out what was wrong.  
  
Quickly, I strengthened my smile and force my face and body language into something that did not scream “Stress.” The calculating undercurrent to his eyes, faded a little bit but not enough for comfort.  
  
“I’m super excited! I hear your moms cooking is to-die-for.” I turned away, making the appearance that I was looking for something or someone. Anything so Fred couldn’t see my eyes any know that I was lying.  
  
“I hope you’ll like staying at the Burrow.” Was all he said. He sounded, what? Let-down?  
  
Crap, I was infecting everyone with my bad mood. I had to try harder- I could at least enjoy the time that I had now with my friends before everything went to Hell. Maybe it would help in the long run. Having more memories to cherish.  
  
Maybe it would make them hate me less- if they knew that I was an actual good person.  
  
…Or maybe, maybe I was just getting my hopes up.


	12. The Act of Homecoming

Not long after my less than comforting conversation with Fred, we loaded our luggage onto the train and took a last look at Hogwarts before we left for Spring Break. Our compartment fit, though not easily, all of us; Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred George, Ginny, and I. Even Luna and Neville at times when everyone wasn’t sprawled out trying to claim space for there own.  
  
There was more than one time when I was forcibly shoved onto Fred’s lap and more than one time when I blushed bright red at his startled expression. Finally though, after much shoving and shifting and cursing, we all settled into a relatively normal seating arrangement.  
  
I had my back to the compartment wall to the left of the window and my legs across both Fred and Georges lap since there was no room for them on the floor as Neville was sitting there. Ginny was at the end of my side of the bench on the other side of George and across from Harry who had Ron, Hermione and then Luna on that side of the compartment benches, in that order.  
  
None of us really minded the squished seats; it was a very comfortable atmosphere with lots of laughs and conversation. Eventually, I even felt marginally relaxed and laughed a bit- something that I had scarcely done since Hermione had set my ultimatum.  
  
I was still wary to look at her though, and she was almost constantly shifting her gaze to me, her expression smoothing out and becoming carefully neutral.  
  
This would be an opportune time to tell them- I knew that. They’re already all here; all my friends were in one place and in good moods. I could do it… But I knew I wasn’t going to.  
  
It would take a miracle for me to tell them willingly so soon.  
  
Weirdly enough, about a half an hour into our train ride, a knock sounded on our compartment door. Harry stood to open it and to the shock of every one of us, Malfoy stood in the doorway- looking sheepish?  
  
Instantly, hackles around the compartment raised and Harry’s eyes narrowed to a dangerous level.  
  
“What do you want?” he snarled, sounded hardly like Harry at all. Draco glared right back before his eyes shifted to me.  
  
“I want to speak with Ariel.” He said, gaze sideling back to Harry, who’s narrowed eyes widened fractionally. Unsure what was going on, I moved my legs from Fred and Georges lap and stood. Stepping carefully around Neville who whispered “Good luck” I walked towards the compartment door, Harry sitting back down.  
  
Almost subconsciously, my hand strayed to my wand, which was tucked into the back of my skirt. My fingers brushed the warm wood and I felt a surge of strength, confident in my abilities to take him in a fight if need be.  
  
We walked out into the empty corridor and I took once last glance into the compartment that held my friends, all of whom were glaring suspiciously at Malfoy.  
  
“Don’t worry,” I said, “I can handle him.” Before shutting the door. I looked back at Malfoy who was simply staring at me and crossed my arms over my chest, settling my facial expression into one of indifference. Due to the clear window in the compartment door, I could still see all of my friends who were watching this unfold but couldn’t hear anything.  
  
His eyes narrowed fractionally before he sighed.  
  
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” He mumbled. My arms dropped in shock and my mouth fell open.  
  
Malfoy?  
  
Say he was sorry?  
  
Instantly, my defenses rose. There was no way in hell he would ever do such a thing without an ulterior motive.  
  
“What are you up to, Malfoy?” I growled, not in the mood to be messed with especially by someone like him.  
  
His expression morphed into anger and disdain.  
  
“Can’t a guy say he’s sorry without being put under inspection?” he snarled, advancing towards me a half-step.  
  
“Yes- but not if that guy is you, Malfoy.” I retorted. He bared his teeth at me and curled his lip in indignation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the animal part of it, took that facial expression as a sign of challenge. Instantly adrenaline shot through my limbs and my hands tightened instinctively on my wand, having taken it out when he stepped towards me.  
  
My shoulders squared and my spine straightened, making up for the few inches Malfoy had on me for height in pure presence. His eyes widened slightly, no doubt taking in this change of presence.  
  
He may have been taller than me and broader than me, but there was no question in either of our minds that I could take him down.  
  
Knowing retreat was the only option, his lip curled even more, eyes narrowing back down, and then he turned on his heel and stalked away, shouldering roughly past a first year Hufflepuff.  
  
Automatically, now that the threat was gone, the adrenaline faded away leaving me phenomenally tired. My hands shook slightly and I had a terrible headache- though it was not near as bad as the one I got after that last full moon.  
  
I stepped back into the compartment, tucking my wand back into my skirt. Those whose feet were in the way (Harry, Ginny, Ron, George, and Neville) pulled them up enough to let me pass back to my seat, while Hermione asked what Malfoy had said.  
  
After I got settled in my seat again, tiredness having grown a substantial amount, I sighed.  
  
“He wanted to apologize.” Instantly there was uproar, everyone vehemently denying that Malfoy would do such a thing and actually mean it.  
  
“I know, I know. My thoughts exactly.” I sighed again and leaned forward to rest my aching forehead against Fred’s shoulder. Instantly, a hand came up to smooth down my hair and conversation gradually slipped into different topics.  
  
I shifted in my seat, moving my back from the wall of the compartment to the back of the seat to more comfortably rest my head against Fred’s shoulder. I pulled my feet up so they weren’t in Neville’s way and wrapped my arm around Fred’s.  
  
I knew I was hard-core cuddling. I knew it- but frankly, between my lack of sleep and headache, I didn’t care a bit. As long as Fred didn’t mind, and so far he hadn’t said anything. Eventually, sleep overtook me and the rest of the journey was history.  
  
Arriving at the train station was, while normal for everyone else, a bit of a novel to me. There was the disorienting babble of people pushing and shoving so I kept a no-mercy grip on Ginny’s arm as we bade good-bye to Hermione and set off to find the rest of the red-headed family.  
  
Spotting a group of crimson amidst the crowd, Ginny tugged me along and soon we were in front of I’m guessing, basically the whole gang of Weasley’s. Immediately I could pick out Mrs. Molly Weasley and Mr. Arthur Weasley and was pretty sure I could tell who were Bill and Charlie. Percy, from what I had heard, was a-wol as due to a falling out in the family.  
  
“Ginny, dear!” Mrs. Weasley cried, rushing forward to envelope her only daughter in a hug. Ginny squeezed back and then moved to hug her father. Ron and Harry hugged both parents next while I just stood awkwardly in the background, not used to being included in a happy family.  
“And this must be Ariel. So good to meet you.” Mrs. Weasley turned her attention to me as Fred and George mysteriously appeared by my sides and pushed me forwards into Mrs. Weasley’s arms. I was caught in a hug that I was not entirely expecting.  
  
“Uh- er- hello, it’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Weasley.” I stuttered, cautiously wrapped my arms around her.  
  
She pulled back laughing, “Mrs. Weasley? Call me Molly, please. Mrs. Weasley makes me sound so old.”  
  
“You’ll never be old, mum. Who’s going to take care of us when you do?” George quipped from my right.  
  
The group laughed and chattered happily as we made our way to a Ford Angelia that looked like it could hold maybe half of us. No one said anything however when all o our luggage was packed into the trunk and we all piled into said car with minimal discomfort.  
  
I had Ginny on my lap and felt lighter than I had in ages as I spent the time poking her sides and watching her flail. She was apparently, outrageously ticklish and I planned to abuse it in the future.  
  
The car ride was loud and fun and eventually we pulled up to the most eccentric and the coolest house ever. There was a sign out front that said, “The Burrow.” There was a patch of woods in the back and around it was fields of wheat.  
  
It kinda looked like you took a house and added parts periodically and I immediately fell in love with it.  
  
As we all got out, and got our respective luggage, Ginny pulled me along into the house and to her room. It’s almost like you could see Ginny through the ages. There was a splash of childish pink that was slowly being taken over by the Quidditch paraphernalia and Gryffindor items. There was a small twin bed in the corner with another mattress underneath it that I presumed would be where I would be sleeping.  
  
After we put out stuff in the room, she gave me a tour and I fell deeper and deeper in love with the house. We went and saw the ghoul up in the attic, went by each of the boy’s rooms, saw the gnomes out in the garden, the clock with all of the family members’ names on it. She even showed me the pitch out behind the patch of woods which were surprisingly dense but nothing like the Forbidden Forest back at Hogwarts.  
  
I stopped outside the front door of the house to just look around. The sun was setting and the sky was turning a deep orange. It smelled like summer already and a slight breeze ruffled my hair. I could hear laughter and talking inside and footsteps on hard wood. It sounded like family and something deep in my heart made a small pang of hurt.  
  
“Ariel!” I turned around at the sound of my name. Fred stood in the doorway of the house just looking at me. The grin slipped off his face and something I couldn’t identify entered his eyes.  
  
“Yeah?” I called.  
  
“It’s uh-“ he cleared his throat, “time for dinner, c’mon.”


	13. The Act of Break

Day one of Spring Break started out fantastic. I woke up around eight having slept for the first time in what felt like ages. Ginny was still sleeping and I didn’t want to wake her up just yet so I tugged on sweats over my boy-shorts (since for some reason Ginny’s room liked to collect most of the heat in the house) and slipped out into the hallway.  
  
From what I could hear, everybody was still in their beds (though I could smell fresh coffee from somewhere) and even the ghoul seems to be asleep. I padded downstairs, keeping an eye out for the creaky step that Ginny warned me about- it had woken up the entire house on more than one occasion- and walked into the kitchen, a little surprised to find Mrs. Weasley up reading the Daily Prophet.  
  
“Oh, someone else is up before noon, how odd.” She quipped, smiling. I let out a laugh and took a seat across the table from her.  
  
“I’m usually not up this early most of the time.” I said, bringing a knee up to rest my chin on.  
  
“There’s tea and coffee if you want some and I could start breakfast if you’re hungry.” She said, folding the newspaper, eyeing me.  
  
I shook my head, “Coffee’s fine, thanks. If you could just show me where the cups are I can get it myself.” I started to rise but stopped at her waved hand in my general direction.  
  
“I was planning to start breakfast soon anyway and I don’t mind getting you a cup.” Getting up, she waved her wand and several pans shuffled from different cabinets, settling onto the stove with small thunks. A single bright red cup flew from a cupboard behind me to settle in front of what looked to be a coffee maker, though I knew electricity didn’t work well around magic.  
  
A pot lifted from the alcove of the thing and poured the dark caffeinated liquid into the cup, milk and sugar floating from the fridge and counter pouring in also. I didn’t know how she knew how I liked my coffee but I wasn’t going to question it.  
  
In the ten seconds I was watching my coffee being made, Mrs. Weasley had already managed to get bacon, eggs, and hash browns going; batter for what looked to be pancakes being stirred next to a skillet. She was humming to herself as she checked on the food and a quick wave of her wand brought my coffee to me.  
  
I curled my hand around the mug, eager for the small warmth it brought and inhaled the scent of it deeply. I’ve always loved coffee, have since I was little. Taking a cautious sip, I sighed at the flavor.  
  
“The coffee is amazing, thank you.” I said, and Mrs. Weasley turned back to smile at me.  
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, taking another sip of the liquid ambrosia.  
  
She leaned against the counter, thinking, “I’ve got breakfast handled, if you could maybe wake everyone else up? Charlie and Bill are at the Ministry with Arthur, they’ll be back later today in time for dinner.”  
  
Taking my mug with me, I started up the stairs, avoiding the creaky step and successfully not spilling the coffee on myself. I decided to go from top to bottom; meaning Ron and Harry would be the first to wake up.  
  
Ascending the stairs, my footsteps were silent and so was the house except for the distant makings of breakfast and little echoes of the house settling. Walking to the bright orange door that said RON, I knocked, hearing an answering grunt from inside. Figuring that for an okay to open the door, I found Harry snuggled on a pull-out with Ron sprawled on his back, drool leaking from the side of his mouth.  
  
I muffled a snort.  
  
“Breakfast is almost ready, time to get up, guys.” I said, softly. Not quiet enough not to be heard but not loud enough to startle them. Harry sluggishly went into a sitting position and threw me a thumbs up which I took for a “Okay, we’ll be down soon.”  
  
So I shut the door and continued down to Ginny’s room. She was still sleeping so I nudged her softly, waking her up gently and left as she sat up and scratched her head. Ron and Harry still hadn’t come down yet but I guessed it would still be about five minutes or so until they were- waking up Ron was difficult.  
  
Making my way to Fred and George’s room, I knocked. Not hearing anything, I cautiously poked my head into the space. There were twin beds on opposite sides of the room with what looked like a laboratory table in the right corner. Fred was on the bed directly in front of me while George was in the other one.  
  
“Guys, it’s time to wake up. Breakfast is almost ready.” I said, trying to not to startle them. There was a moan from George that sounded like, “Oh god, please no.” and I laughed quietly. Walking over to George, I laid a hand on his shoulder, shaking him.  
  
“C’mon, sleepy-bum. Gotta get up.” He grinded his face even deeper into the pillow before popping up, looking at me with blurry eyes. Deciding he was truly up, I turned to Fred, who had changed position and was now on his stomach, comforter having been dragged down to his waist.  
  
He didn’t have a shirt on.  
  
So, you know how I have that thing for forearms? I may or may not have a thing for shoulders too. Fred and George, for having been Beaters in Quidditch, pretty much held trophies for the best arms and coincidentally, shoulders too.  
  
His skin was pale and freckled but tanner than Ron’s. The Twins may still be taller than Ron but that distance was quickly depleting and both of the Twins were broader than him.  
  
It took a lot of self-restraint not to touch him more than a poke on the shoulder.  
  
“Get up. Breakfast.” Wow, my mouth was dry. I took a too-big drink of my coffee, wincing as it burnt slightly. His head turned from facing the wall to my direction, eyes flickering open. His cerulean eyes were tired and still sleep covered but he apparently found it within him to smile and it was totally the most adorable thing ever.  
  
Fred pushed himself up obviously to change into an upright position, shoulder muscles visibly working under the freckled skin and I had to turn away quickly, because if I continued to look, I might’ve done something stupid.  
  
I made my away out of the room, a quick glance telling me that George was up too. I’d almost made my escape when right as I passed through the arch-way of the door, I heard Fred say my name.  
  
“Hey, Ariel.” His voice was deep and rough with sleep and I clenched onto my mug. Turning, I smiled automatically, trying not to freak out. I’d seen guys shirtless before. It was no biggie.  
  
No biggie, right. Fred stood by the side of his bed, clad in only boxers (blue with little ‘F’s all over them) that were low on his hips. His hair was adorably flattened on one side and a mussed up mess on the other side- of course only Fred could work bed-head. There were red lines where the creases in the bed had pressed into his face and chest. A pale scar stood out against his right pectoral, short but cutting across the bottom of it to end at the top of his first rib.  
  
Holy French toast on a stick. Okay, don’t freak out. He walked towards me slowly, scratching at the side of his head, as Ginny had done, but Ginny didn’t have mad arm muscles that caused me to drool. He stopped right in front of me, smelling like pine and apples and cinnamon and sleep.  
  
“Good morning.” Fred murmured, plucking my coffee out of my hands, smirking slightly at my a little too-wide eyes. And then the door shut in my face, startling me out my revere.  
  
“Hey!” I called indignantly, “Give me back my coffee!” All I could hear was chuckling from the room and I turned away, cheeks turning pink in embarrassment. Ginny who had just stepped out of her room, glanced at me curiously before her mouth fell open and she looked at me with shock. Already, I knew what she had just figured out.  
  
“No, Ginny! It’s- it’s not like that!” I tried, desperately, but to no avail, her mouth had already turned into a devious smile and she simply walked down the stairs, humming to herself.  
  
Apparently, I was the most transparent person in the world.  
  
Breakfast was fun, especially since Ron was still half asleep and apparently his motor-controls were also. Fred had put on a shirt and pants (sad) so I could finally look him in the eye without wanting to rub my hands all over his chest, because THAT wouldn’t have been weird.  
  
Ginny refused to acknowledge anything I said on the whole, “I know who you like finally” front, so I gave up and let her think what she wanted to and laughed along as Ron ended up with more food on his face and shirt than in his mouth. After breakfast, I tried to help Mrs. Weasley wash up but she wouldn’t let me.  
  
So, feeling guilty, I let myself be drug up to Ginny’s room by a once again, smirking Ginny who really had no right grinning like that.  
  
I was yanked in, neck cracking with the force and shoved onto the pull-out, Ginny grinning down at me like a mad-woman.  
  
“So which one it is?” she asked, or no, demanded.  
  
“I have absolutely no clue what you mean.” Getting up, I went to my suitcase, trying to talk over her while I did so.  
  
“Hey, we should play a game of Quidditch.”  
  
“You know what I mean, Ariel.”  
  
“I mean, it looks pretty nice out today and it sounds like fun.”  
  
“You’re being a git, tell me.”  
  
“So, Quidditch. I’ll go get dressed in the bathroom and you get ready here and then we’ll go outside and beat the crap out of each other via Quaffle.” I said, smiling innocently at her, clutching my bundled clothes to my chest. “Okay?” and then without waiting for a confirmation, I ran out of the room, a shot-down Ginny glaring at me from behind.  
  
“Yikes. What’d you do to Ginny to make her glare at you like that?” Ron said, stumbling up the stairs, still apparently asleep.  
  
I just groaned and made my way to the bathroom, changing into jeans and a tank-top. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, using the help of the mirror to pull my hair up into a messy pony-tail.  
  
Stepping out, I went back to Ginny’s room, finding her dressed and sitting petulantly on her bed.  
  
“I’ll find out eventually, I hope you know that.” She said.  
  
Grabbing my white vans, that were slowly becoming very not-white, I agreed with her, “I have no doubt of that,” I said, “but maybe you’d have more luck if you didn’t demand that I tell you.” I grinned wryly at her and she reluctantly grinned back.  
  
“I see your point.” She dutifully tugged on her shoes and grabbed her broom, while I took mine out of its case and pulled on my military style jacket that I’d gotten so long ago at the clothing store in Hogsmead with George and Fred.  
  
I wouldn’t need it for long, I was bound to get sweaty playing Quidditch but the morning was just a bit chilled and it wouldn’t get warmer until the end of the day. Ginny and I walked downstairs then, telling her mom that we’d be out at the pitch and I thanked Mrs. Weasley again for breakfast which she just tittered at and shooed us along.  
  
We talked and laughed as we made our way to the shed which stored the Quidditch supplies. Grabbing the case, we trudged our way to behind the house where the pond was, across a small field, through the grove of trees and to the make-shift Quidditch pitch.  
  
We set the stuff out and stretched since we were really in no rush to start a game that was bound to get intense, knowing Ginny and I. We were both competitive as hell.  
  
It’s not like I hadn’t planned of telling Ginny about how I was crushing kinda a lot on her brother. I just didn’t want to weird her out and frankly, this whole ‘I like you’ business was still basically new to me.  
  
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m a teenager, I know how it goes but personally going through it is completely different. I was already packed with hormones and animalistic urges thanks to being a werewolf but still. My self-confidence was not up to being shot-down nor could I let myself get into a relationship without them knowing about me being a werewolf.  
  
So, I just chatted with Ginny, about school, about music (It made me incredibly sad that she didn’t know who AC/DC was and I made a point to fiddle with her radio later), and about sports.  
  
Before long, we were tossing around the Quaffle, kicking it up in the air and basically playing make-shift hacky-sack with it, laughing as we stubbed our toes against the weighty ball.  
  
Soon, we were up the air, rising on the slopes of wind and basically just having fun with flying. We taught each other new moves and even spent part of the time daring each other to try out tricks that were insanely hard.  
  
Eventually, we rose high enough to see the Burrow from over the trees. We sat up there, breathing in the air while I finally worked up enough courage to tell Ginny.  
  
I took a deep breath, “It’s Fred.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You asked before which one, which Twin it was. It’s Fred.” Looking back at the ground, trying not to feel vertigo, I couldn’t look at Ginny. Telling secrets, however much not secret they are, is hard for me but I figured if I was opening up to her about Fred, and about something as difficult as this, would make doing the same with me being a werewolf easier.  
  
“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment then, “Ew.”  
  
I bust out laughing because that was something Ginny would say, of course. She laughed a long too and I could finally look at her again.  
  
“Thanks for telling me. I thought I was going to die from my curiosity.”  
  
I rolled my eyes, “Stop being so melodramatic.” And pushed her broom away with my foot.  
  
We got back in around eleven, hungry and our cheeks still pink from the wind. Mrs. Weasley was in the living room, telling Ron and Harry and the Twins that they had to de-gnome the garden.  
  
I put my broom my the doorstep and walked over to the boys while Ginny got us apples and caramel to snack on.  
  
“De-gnome the garden?” I asked, curious as to what that would entail.  
  
Ron groaned, “We have to do it every few days and those little buggers  _hurt_.”  
  
I just laughed and patted him on the shoulder, “Well, I’ll help then.”  
  
Soon, we were all out in the garden to the side of the house. The boys were all having a contest as to who could throw a gnome the farthest when one waddled up to me. I wasn’t paying much attention to it, kinda fixated on the competition, when I felt sharp teeth puncture my right ankle.  
  
Yelping at the sudden, stinging pain, I flung my foot out and ripped the bastard off of my skin. Instantly, the boys weren’t laughing and were staring in my direction, casting worried glances at me, seeing if I was alright.  
  
“I’m fine.” I reassured them. “No thanks to this little shit-head.” I continued under my breath, sticking my tongue out at him. The gnome was pointing at me with a sharp finger, hissing, my blood smeared across its mouth. Gross.  
  
Glancing down at my ankle, I saw that there were several punctures through my jeans and I was bleeding enough to seep into my shoe, ruining them and my jeans.  
  
Okay, now I was a little pissed off. I took a quick crow-hop and launched the bastard across the fence and into the wheat fields beyond, several dozen yards past Harry’s longest throw which held the record.  
  
Harry and Ron and the Twins stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me again, their faces ones of surprise instead of concern.  
  
I shrugged, “What? He ruined my shoes.”  
  
That made them glance down, taking in the bloody mess that was my right foot. Instantly, I was being shoved towards the house, Fred and George by my sides, fussing over me.  
  
“Guys! I’m fine! It’s just a few scratches.” I resisted, knowing that it was just a few scratches.  
  
“Oh god! Ariel! You’ll be okay! I promise! We’ll get you fixed up all nice and you’ll be better again!” George ranted.  
  
“DON’T GO INTO THE LIGHT!” Fred cried, tugging me along theatrically. I started laughing, too caught up in their dramatics to do much else.  
  
George leaned into my ear conspiratorially, “We’re using you to get out of de-gnoming. Play along.” While Fred faked cried at my side.  
  
“Hey!” we heard an indignant call from Ron before reaching the house and pushing me inside. Mrs. Weasley, who was dusting the living room caught sight of us and went to reprimand, obviously, before her eyes landed on my ankle and the blood.  
  
And thus became a flurry of quilts and red-hair.  
  
“Oh you poor thing, here sit down and prop your ankle up and we’ll clean you up just fine.”  
  
“I’m fine! Really! A quick wash and a band-aid and I’ll be peachy.” Seriously, with my advanced healing, the scratches would be gone by the end of the week.  
  
“Oh nonsense, now put your foot up and stop complaining.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.” I complied and walked over to a kitchen chair, putting my foot up on the one in front of me. Rolling up my ruined pants, I glanced at the wound. There were about twelve punctures in a rough circle that were bleeding kinda profusely actually. Blood trailed down my ankle and got all in my sock and seeped into my shoe.  
  
George who was still by my side, along with Fred, whistled, “That’s one of the best bites we’ve seen.”  
  
“Well aren’t I just blessed.” I quipped.  
  
Grimacing, I untied my shoe and eased it off my foot, slipping off the sock also. By that time, Mrs. Weasley was back with a washcloth, some bandages and some ointment.  
  
She quickly washed the punctures before tapping my ankle with her wand, murmuring a quick healing spell. It knitted wounds closed slightly and stopped the bleeding. She rubbed some ointment on them that soothed the last of the stinging before wrapping it in bandages.  
  
Mrs. Weasley then glancing at my shoe and sock that were still in my hand, took them from me and placed them on the table. She said another spell and the blood stains faded away. Rolling down the leg of my jeans, she did the same thing and fixed the holes made by the gnome’s teeth.  
  
“Thank you!” I smiled brilliantly at her, relieved that I didn’t have to throw away my vans or the jeans. She just patted my shoulder and went to put away the excess bandages and ointment.  
  
Fred and George by that time had gone back outside to help finish the de-gnoming and Ginny had come down from upstairs where she had been put with the chore of cleaning the bathroom.  
  
She saw the sterile, white bandages wrapped around my ankle and “hummed knowingly. I just laughed and got up from the chair, not knowing what to do now. I settled for grabbing my broom from the porch and running it back upstairs to Ginny’s room to put it back in the case.  
  
I spent the rest of the afternoon just hanging out with Ginny, who teased me about my crush but that was only expected.  
  
At one point of the afternoon I had finally gotten around to fiddling with the radio. I wanted it to play a muggle station and I knew it was possible because I’d done it in one of my old schools, though, that had been years ago.  
  
Ginny was laughing at my attempts and threw small pieces of candy at me while I worked. I caught a few in my mouth and chewed thoughtfully as I messed around with the gears in the back.  
  
Eventually, the fuzzing cleared out to an old rock station playing “Heat of the Moment” by Asia.  
  
“Finally! See?! Told you I could get it to work.” I stuck my tongue out at her laughing and she mockingly motioned bowing to me.  
  
“Who’s this?” Ron asked, walking in with Harry.  
  
“Asia.” Harry and I said at the same time. We laughed and I jumped up, still elated with my success.  
  
“ _It was the heat of the moment_.” Harry and I sang along when it got to the chorus. We busted up laughing and I felt a bit nostalgic because for however much wizarding world music was awesome, it still never beat AC/DC for me.  
  
We listened to the radio for a while, Harry and I naming off the bands and song we could and there was more than one awkward karaoke session. Me and Ron played chess and he beat me but I blame being distracted by nostalgia. George and Fred came in after a while and sat with us.  
  
A little after the clock struck five, the fire-place erupted green flames, scaring the crap out of me who was sitting closest to it. Rom laughed at me as Bill, Charlie, and Arthur stepped out in quick succession.  
  
There was a chorus of greetings and I said hi to the newest Weasley’s entering the house.  
  
“What’s playing on the radio?” Charlie asked as “Every Breath You Take” by The Police came on.  
  
“Oh, Ariel got it to play a muggle station and we’ve been listening to old rock songs apparently.” Ginny replied.  
  
That made the three oldest male Weasley’s look at me, eyebrows raised so, of course, I panicked a little.  
  
“If you guys don’t like it, I can always change it back, because I can do that because it’s not broken it’s just on a new channel and easily changed. I’ve just been able to tamper with ones before to do the same thing and I’ll just stop talking now.” You should be able to tell that I’m not used to families.  
  
Both Ron and Harry were snickering into their arms and Ginny shouldered them roughly. My cheeks, of course, were blazing crimson and I wanted to sink into a puddle of Ariel-goo.  
  
Arthur just laughed, “No, we were just wondering at the ability to do that.” He patted my shoulder as he walked by, Bill and Charlie following him, smiling. I just did what came to mind and laid down on the ground, resisting the urge to smash my face into it.  
  
How I could be so awkward- I don’t even know.  
  
Fred took this apparently ample opportunity to sit on my back, squishing the air out my lungs.  
  
“Oh my god. I can’t breathe!” I flailed, almost knocking him off but wasn’t able to before he adjusted, straddling my back and hips.  
  
“Seriously.” I wheezed, “Get off, your butt is bony and I think one of my ribs just punctured my lungs and if I die from this I’m coming back and haunting you.”  
  
He just laughed and didn’t move but adjusted yet again so he wasn’t crushing my lungs. I gasped in air theatrically, complaining about how I had almost  _died_.  
  
Ginny, of course, was in hysterics and sent knowing glances my way that I promptly ignored. It was hard though, to ignore the fact that Fred was basically sitting on my butt, straddling me.  
  
Eventually, I just shifted a little, getting as comfortable as I could, cradling my head in my arms. Fred and I stayed like that until dinner was said to be ready and he got off, helping me up as we made out way into the kitchen.  
  
Dinner was more fun than breakfast now that the whole of the Weasley family was there (except Percy). It was strange to be a part of a family again especially since it’d been forever since I had one.  
  
The other teenagers at the orphanage weren’t exactly the best company.  
  
By the time dinner was over, I was stuffed with food and ready to sleep. I went upstairs and stripped down to my tank-top and underwear, pulling on my superhero pajama pants (Avengers. They were amazing) before I went to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth.  
  
I’d finished my business and was on my way back to Ginny’s room when I ran into Fred who apparently was on  _his_  way to the bathroom. He was back to wearing just boxers like this morning and I valiantly focused on a freckle on his collarbone.  
  
Collarbones are non-sexy so it was safe. They were very… not sexy…  
  
Damnit. I turned my attention to his forehead, bypassing his lips which were moving. He was talking to me. Right.  
  
“What?” I asked dumbly.  
  
He just stared at me, a smile ticking at the corner of his mouth. He stepped closer and I felt the heat of him on my skin.  
  
Don’t freak out.  
  
Don’t freak out.  
  
Don’t freak out.  
  
“Ariel? Are you listening to me?” Fred asked, mirth clearly in his voice.  
  
“What?” Fred laughed, before stooping down to my level and pressing a kiss to my temple. He pulled away just enough to whisper, “Good night.” In my ear before ducking into the bathroom and shutting the door.  
  
Taking a deep, gasping breath after I realized I hadn’t breathed through the whole thing, I scurried away back to Ginny’s room to valiantly try and not freak out over the goose-bumps he had left on my skin.


	14. The Act of Jumping

On Day Two of Spring Break, I woke up later than everyone else for some reason.  
  
And then was promptly dumped in the pond.  
  
As to my sleeping in later, I think it was all the food that Mrs. Weasley had managed to get me to eat from the night before and there may or may not have been a dream that was worth staying in for the time being.  
  
As to being dumped in the pond, I’ll get to that in a minute.  
  
I woke up, however, to muffled snickering, some shushing, and a yelp that scattered away all tangles of sleep. It caused me to shoot up from my bed in a panic, startling everyone around me.  
  
Which was everyone in the house practically, excluding parents and people who had jobs. Blearily taking in my surroundings, I saw that Ginny was perched at the end of the pull-out I was sleeping on, George and Fred had claimed her bed, and Harry and Ron were hanging out somewhere by the doorway.  
  
Yawning, I scratched my head, not finding it in me to actually care that there was a group of people watching me sleep (which, I’m sorry, was creepy in all senses. (Edward I’m looking at you)). Snuggling back into my pillow, I tried, valiantly, to recede to sleep again.  
  
I heard some more whispering as I started to dream again before I was being shifted and lifted from the pull-out. My sleep-fuddled mind however, was slow to uptake on the panic that I should have felt the moment I was being lifted.  
  
It wasn’t until I heard the creek of the stairs and the motion of a door opening that I started to piece together that I was being taken outside.  
  
Why in the world…?  
  
Just as I heard the hollow steps on what sounded like a boardwalk, I understood what was happening.  
  
 _Then_ the panic kicked in.  
  
I started flailing, all attempts to resume sleeping abandoned in the small hope that I would be able to get out and get away and not take a bath in presumably some cold-ass water.  
  
My eyes popped open and I saw that Fred was carrying me (which normally would be awesome- unfortunately not in this case) across the boardwalk and we were still getting slowly closer to my doom despite my best attempts at getting him to drop me at least.  
  
I’m weak in the morning, okay?  
  
I heard laughing behind us and made a note to make all accomplices’ lives living  _hell_ for this. We reached the very edge of the boardwalk and I started to feel Fred’s arms bunch to throw me and I made a split second decision.  
  
If I was going in and taking a hypothermic bath, I sure as hell wasn’t going alone.  
  
Fred threw me forward but I stubbornly grabbed onto his arms, using my momentum against him. He stumbled forward with a shout of “No!” before we were both plunging into the pond water.  
  
Water rushed up my nose and I panicked a little because holy crap, this pond was a lot deeper than I thought it was. Once the initial disorientation passed, I swam upwards, breaking the surface with a gasp.  
  
I was right though, the water was like ice and I resisted the urge to squeal- not like I could if I wanted to. My lungs were seizing up in the cold, making it hard to breathe.  
  
Fred sputtered beside me and I felt a surge of smugness in taking him along with me. His hair, that was normally a fantastic shade of orange, was now a darker shade of it that stuck to his forehead.  
  
How come he got to look gorgeous after being dumped in a pond while I just  _knew_ I looked like a drowned dog?  
  
I dunked him for spite before swimming to the dock and pulling myself up. The shorts I had worn to sleep in were now plastered to my body along with my tank top. I was just thanking my lucky stars that it was black and therefore not see-through when wet.  
  
Stumbling to a standing position at the end of the dock while Fred was still sputtering, I saw the group over in the lawn with tears in their eyes. George was patting Ginny on the back and Harry and Ron were hanging off each other.  
  
So it was all Ginny’s fault.  
  
“Ginerva.” I called. Instantly, all laughter stopped and Ginny looked up, outraged before she caught the look on my face, which was the epitome of murderous. She stopped looking so outraged just then.  
  
She got maybe two steps before I started after her, running the length of the dock in four long strides. I may be shorter than Fred and George but I still had long enough legs to sprint with the best of them.  
  
Ginny’s destination was clearly the house as I blasted past George, Harry, and Ron who scattered at my oncoming. I caught up to her quickly though, tackling her when she was maybe five yards from (relative) safety.  
  
We tumbled for a rotation or two before I slammed Ginny on her back, pinning her arms down with my knees and basically sitting on her chest. Despite her best struggling, she couldn’t buck me off due to both my weight and the muscles in my legs.  
  
I took my time with her, letting the water from my shorts seep into her shirt before ringing out my hair onto her forehead, despite her screeches.  
  
The one time my long hair actually came in handy.  
  
I wasn’t done with her yet though. I spent the next 20 minutes tickling her. She grew red in the face and tears streamed from her eyes and she begged for mercy so I backed off- at least until she got her breath back of course- before repeating the whole process over again.  
  
After I had worked out my anger of being dumped into the pond, I got up off of her and helped pull her up so she knew I had forgiven her. She panted for air while I smoothed her back, looking for my new target.  
  
Fred and Ginny had already gotten their punishment (though I had yet to forgive Fred) but now I still had to get George, Ron, and Harry. Since they were relatively smart, I saw that they were nowhere to be seen.  
  
No matter. I’d find them eventually.  
  
I let walked inside the house, determined to shower before the pond water cemented into my hair and left Ginny behind to catch her breath. Mrs. Weasley about had a heart-attack when I walked in however.  
  
“Oh my Merlin, what happened to you, deary?!” she exclaimed, the mug in her hands splashing dangerously in her shock.  
  
“Don’t worry- all will be right in the universe by the end of the day.” I smiled, obviously confusing the hell out of her, but the chill from the pond was getting worse and I desperately needed to shower.  
  
Now.  
  
I trotted upstairs and shuffled around in my bags before grabbing the clothes I’d be wearing for today along with a towel and shower necessities. However, as I exited Ginny’s room to go to the bathroom, I saw Fred on his way in, pond scum coating his shoulder.  
  
“Hell no!” I yelled, running over to him and yanking him out of the doorway.  
  
“What?” he said confused. I used his moment of confusion to run inside and shut the door in his face.  
  
“I’m showering first!” I told him through the door.  
  
“What?” he repeated, “No! I was here first!” he complained, banging on the door. I struggled for a moment to lock it.  
  
Finally with the lock clicking in place, I replied with, “Too damn bad! I’m the victim and I have boobs so you can kiss my ass and wait for a damn minute!”  
  
I heard him huff angrily and I stuck my tongue out at him even though I knew he couldn’t see it.  
  
“We could always just shower together.” He said in a quieter voice, mirth bright underneath.  
  
I blew a loud raspberry at him, thankful that he couldn’t see just how red my face had gotten at the proposal. I heard him laugh before the creak of the floorboards told me he’d left.  
  
Flush with victory and my sheer determination  _not_ to think about the proposal, I showered away the branches and leaves and pond scum that had made a home in my hair. I showered until the cold from the pond that infected my core was gone and I felt all tingly and clean and ready for some pay-back.  
  
Getting dressed in jeans and a bright red pull-over was easy after that, along with putting gel my hair so it didn’t dry like a tumble weed which it had the tendency to do unfortunately.  
  
I opened the bathroom door, letting the steam out and saw that Fred was back, looking like a petulant child that had had his candy stolen. He pushed it way into the bathroom and I was able to catch the muscles in his back working as he pulled off his shirt before the door shut.  
  
He had back dimples. You know the ones right above someone’s butt? Yeah,  _those_.  
  
I was ruined for anyone else- ever.  
  
Officially.  
  
Swallowing hard, I turned to Ginny’s room, hoping she’d be there since she was going to be my partner-in-crime. No such luck, however so I went down to the kitchen and living room finding her there, listening to the old rock station I’d put the radio on yesterday.  
  
“Ginny.” I said, startling her out of listening. She took one look at me before smirking and hopping up from the chair.  
  
“Hell yeah, I’m in.”  
  
“Good. Here’s how we’re gonna do this…”  
  
I dragged Ginny up to her room and told her the plan in secretive whispers before setting off to work. I learned from Ginny that the other three boys were hiding; George was in his dads junk shed and Harry and Ron were at the pitch, laying low.  
  
I already knew how to get George back and Ginny promised me that it would be completely safe for the shed. I took her at her word so I sent her on her way to lock George in the shed while I did the rest of the work.  
  
Glancing at the bathroom to make sure that Fred was still in the shower, I crept quickly over to the Twin’s room, pushing the door open quietly. It was still the same as yesterday- messy, chaotic, but so utterly the Twins that it was okay.  
  
Estimating that I only had a few more minutes before Fred was out and caught me, I quickly set out to search for what I needed. Both Ginny and I were sure that the Twins would have some since they were the Twins and all, it would be weird if they didn’t.  
  
I felt a little weird that I was snooping in their room but I squashed it ferociously- they had to learn better than to throw me in a pond or at least be okay with doing that.  
  
Shuffling through their closet, I was sad to find that they didn’t have what I needed in there. The boxes that were piled up in one of the corners didn’t either. It was when I had dropped to the floor to look under each of the beds that I found what I needed.  
  
It took a minute to pull out the box of them while inhaling about 300 dust bunnies before I stood up with my prize, dusty and elated.  
  
Just in time for the door to open and Fred to be back. In a split second I had hid the box as best I could behind my back, wincing at my guilty composure. It was an instant reaction, okay.  
  
Fred stopped towel drying his hair in favor of staring at me impassively.  
  
“Uh- what are you doing?” he asked.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
Right- he was obviously going to believe  _that_. Could I sound any more suspicious?  
  
“Uh-huh. And what are you hiding behind your back?” Fred threw the towel on his bed, taking a step closer to me as if he was going to take the box from me.  
  
I shuffled guiltily, “Would you believe me if I told you that letting me take this box would benefit all of man-kind?”  
  
The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile he was clearly trying to suppress. His skin was flushed from the shower and I was distracted for a moment by a bead of water trailing down his Adam’s apple to continue under the collar of his shirt.  
  
“No- but then again, I’m still trying to come to terms that you’re stealing from me.” He remarked.  
  
I gaped. “I’m not stealing! I’m just- You see- It’s.” Stopping, I realized that he was indeed correct about me taking them without his permission.  
  
“Look, may I please have the thing I’m hiding behind my back because I need it for something that would, definitely, despite your reluctance to believe such a thing, benefit all of man-kind or at least those who have been jilted?” I asked, smiling for good measure.  
  
The smiling he’d been trying to hide before snapped onto his face and he let out a chuckle to top it off.  
  
“Sure.” He admitted and I beamed at him. “If…”  
  
And the smile on my face disappeared.  
  
“If?” I prompted, halfway dreading his response.  
  
“If-” he took a step forward and I had to force myself not to take a step backwards, feeling crowded even though there were still several feet in between us, “If you go swimming with me tonight.”  
  
Confusion furrowed my eyebrows for a moment before I schooled myself into an impassive stare.  
  
“Swimming?”  
  
“That’s right.”  
  
“In the… pond?”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
He just shrugged and the grin went crooked, stuttering my heart. In a distant part of my brain, I wondered even if I had brought a swim-suit. I know I packed for everything and it was a common article for me to pack, plus there was a vague memory of packing something along the lines of a swim-suit but-  
  
“But it’s freezing.” I prompted.  
  
“So?” his gaze was challenging which was totally unfair because he knew how I was with challenges.  
  
I wondered, however, if my need to accept said challenge would outweigh my anxiety of him seeing the scar on my back.  
  
“Fine. Just let me take the box and we’ll go swimming tonight.” Nodding and surprising myself at the quick acceptance, I couldn’t help but feel happy as the crooked grin on his face widened significantly. Fred, dutifully, took a step aside, leaving the door open for my exit. I quickly scooted around him, towards the door, keeping the box behind me and making sure he was always 100% in front of me.  
  
I was half sure he was going to attack me or something, before I was fully out of the room and taking the stairs three at a time. I ran outside, catching the site of Ginny leaning against the shed with the door shuddering ever few seconds. I heard George’s muffled voice from inside and grinned as justice was going to be sparkly.  
  
It took a few minutes to hook each individual piece together so they would go off at the same time but once we accomplished that, Ginny and I climbed onto the roof of the shed, surrounding the small window on the roof that let in the sun. George’s voice drifted away as he heard our footsteps on the roof.  
  
Ginny took a match out of her pocket along with a tinderbox while I opened the window to the dark room inside. George’s face appeared below, confused at what we were doing but the moment he saw our smirks, the match, and the fuse I was holding out to Ginny, it contorted into fear and he ducked away, screaming.  
  
The match lit the fuse of the string of Wizarding Fire-Works (assorted fire-crackers, sparklers, whistlers, etc.) that were proven to be non-flammable and safe for children. I quickly dropped them into the shed, closing the window and listening to the shouts coming from inside before the first whistled pierced the air.  
  
For the next fifteen seconds, the world was filled with the sound of whistles, sparks, snaps, cracks, and very manly screaming. Ginny and I roared with laughter, clutching onto each other, tears leaking from our eyes and our ribs hurting.  
  
Once the fireworks stopped and small tendrils of smoke were leaking from the window, we quickly climbed off the roof of the shed and unlocked the door, smoke curling from the top of it.  
  
George stood in the doorway, smudges of soot and blinking away the stars I knew were in his eyes from the dazzles of the fire-works. His appearance brought on a whole new round of laughter from Ginny and I, along with a deeper chuckle from behind us.  
  
Turning around, I saw Fred chuckling as he walked up to us. He stopped level with me and Ginny, still grinning broadly. George cracked a reluctant smile, before laughing himself.  
  
“Okay, okay.” He conceded. “I’m sorry- you got me back.”  
  
I walked up and hugged him, letting him know that all was right with us now.  
  
“Remind me never to get on your bad side again. I can only shudder in fear of what you’re going to do to Ron and Harry.” He wondered aloud.  
  
“Don’t worry- their next. Now, go take a shower or something; you stink.” I wrinkled my nose and pulled away from him to the sound of all four of us laughing again.  
  
George left with Fred to go inside and I turned to Ginny, ready to get back at Harry and Ron.  
  
For the idea I had to deal out justice to Ron and Harry, it depended on whether or not the Weasley’s had any plastic cups in their inventory. A quick search through the kitchen, much to the dismay of Mrs. Weasley, revealed that they did, in fact, have a set of 50 recyclable paper cups that would work just fine.  
  
Searching through the junk shed that had suffered no scorch-marks much to my pleasure (and relief), Ginny and I found a roll of 300 yards of string which was the second thing we needed.  
  
Next, we employed the help of George (who had finished showering) and Fred to act as look outs. Fred was outside at the start of the grove of trees, concealible if Harry and Ron started back but in sight of the Twin’s window where George was at, waiting for Fred’s signal should he have to give it.  
  
George was then to inform Ginny and I of Harry and Ron’s approach.  
  
In a surprisingly short amount of time, Ginny and I were able to string up all 50 cups filled with various things (water, bird seed, syrup, marbles, etc.) all around Ron’s room. You could open the door a third of the way, just enough for Ginny and I to shimmy through before you encountered a string.  
  
Any movement of a singular string was bound to set off a chain reaction which was exactly what I intended to happen. Now, once I and Ginny shimmied out of the room for the last time, all there was to do was wait.  
  
Fred was called back inside by a signal from George and we spent the rest of the afternoon in anticipation, waiting for Ron and Harry to come back inside.  
  
 _They probably had to be pretty hungry as they had hid out in the pitch all day_ , I thought, slightly vindictive as I munched happily on a ham and cheese sandwich that Mrs. Weasley had made for all of us.  
  
It was a little after the eldest three male Weasleys returned home that Ron and Harry came back inside for dinner. I had just finished up a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny when Ron crept in, casting a nervous glance in my direction.  
  
I got up and strolled over to the two, smiling the best most sincere smile ever, “Hey- no harm, no foul. We’re cool, okay?” I raised an eyebrow, still smiling. Ron looked relieved, almost to the point of a full-body deflation of tension. Harry, on the other hand, looked less sure, but nonetheless smiled back.  
  
Mrs. Weasley called us in to the kitchen then, obviously for dinner since it was 6:23 and Mr. Weasley, Charlie, and Bill must be starving- along with Ron and Harry.  
  
Dinner was a normal event- despite the excitement I felt for Ron and Harry to go upstairs. But I was patient- acting completely normal like I wasn’t still burning for recompense. Ginny was more obvious than I was because she kept this secretive smile on her face that was so obvious that she was even asked about it, to which I promptly kicked her hard under the table.  
  
She startled towards me, glaring, while I kept my face impassive, before answering the question.  
  
“Nothing- was just thinking about the butt-kicking I gave Ariel earlier in Exploding Snap.” A passable excuse but good-god, I needed to teach this girl my ways.  
  
After I was sufficiently stuffed with food, yet again, all us kids went upstairs to get ready for bed, though not necessarily sleeping yet. I barely withheld my smile as I watched Ron and Harry walk up another set of stairs since Ron’s room was on a level higher than Ginny’s and the Twins.  
  
Speaking of whom, George and Fred stopped all pretence of normalcy once Harry and Ron’s feet were gone, rushing over to the railing of the ascending staircase, looking up.  
  
Ginny and I stopped in front of her room, all four of us barely breathing as we waited. About four seconds later, there was the creak of the door, a startled gasp and a muffled, “Bloody hell!” followed by several thumps.  
  
All four of us exploded in laughter and quickly tried to stifle our giggles as we heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Ron and Harry appeared with various coatings of sees, water, flour, syrup, feathers, the works and such bland expressions that we all started howling again.  
  
My cheeks were hot with laughter and ached pleasantly. Ginny was pink in the face wither her giggles and could hardly stand looking in Harry’s general direction without laughing even harder. Fred and George were clutching onto the railing of the stairs, trying valiantly to keep upright.  
  
“We see your point, Ariel.” Harry said and my laughter drifted away to just wide smiles.  
  
“You guys take showers- we can wait to get ready for bed.” Call it a peace offering. Ron, immediately, stalked into the bathroom and for a second, I felt a bit guilty for making his room a mess.  
  
Ginny and I retreated to her room, both of us quickly getting into pajamas though I took a second longer to shuffle through my suitcase for my bathing suit.  
  
When Ginny saw what I was doing and what I’d pulled out she asked, “What do you need your bathing suit for?”  
  
I took a moment to look at the simple blue bikini sitting on my luggage before answering.  
  
“So you know how we needed Fred and George’s fireworks to get back at George?”  
  
She nodded, motioning me to go on.  
  
“Well, Fred got out of the shower sooner than anticipated and he caught me and in trade for the fireworks, I have to go swimming with him in the pond tonight.”  
  
“But the pond is freezing!” Ginny said, taken back a little.  
  
“That’s what I said, but it’s what we agreed on.” I shrugged a little. To be completely honest with myself, as much as I wasn’t excited for the freezing cold water, spending time along with Fred sounded amazing.  
  
“As weird as it is for you to like my brother, we need to have girl-talk. Pronto.” She clambered up on the bed, patting the spot beside her. I just laughed and shook my head in fondness before grabbing a pillow and settling in next to her.  
  
For the next twenty minutes I talked (ranted) about when I started liking him, when we’d hung out at the Room of Requirement, when we went to Hogsmead and he got me the ring (which was still on my thumb since I never took it off and Ginny ooh’ed and aww’ed at it), when he kissed my temple the day before.  
  
Ginny gaped at that last one.  
  
“He kissed you? I mean, on your temple, yeah, but still. That’s major.”  
  
I just smiled and ducked my head, reliving the short memory. Ginny nudged my shoulder, knowing what I was doing and I laughed and shoved her back.  
  
“I’m sorry if me talking about it makes you feel awkward. I mean, at least I haven’t ranted about how unfairly attractive he is.” I taunted, giggling as Ginny blanched.  
  
“Seriously, have you seen his abs? Or his arms? Or his shoul-”  
  
“Stop! Stop! He’s my brother! Stick to the cutesy stuff! Not how much you want to snog him!” she cried, stuffing her face into her blanket.  
  
The last bit drew my laughter short. Hell yeah, I wanted to kiss him, that much was obvious. Thing was, I had absolutely no clue how to make-out with someone. I mean, I knew  _how_ , of course, but there’s a significant difference between knowledge and the application of such knowledge.  
  
Oh god- what if I was awful?  
  
It’s not like I planned to make out with him tonight- my hormones planned to, but my moral consciousness said that making-out was a strict ‘no’.  
  
I wouldn’t feel right starting something with him until he knew about my being a werewolf. Would he understand that? What if he tried to kiss me tonight and make it into something more and I stopped him, would he get angry?  
  
What if we just not kissed at all?  
  
“Ariel.”  
  
It’s Fred, who was kind and thoughtful and amazing- surely he would understand. But what if we kissed and then when I told him that I was a werewolf, he wouldn’t like me anymore? At least, in a more-then-friends way.  
  
Did he even like me like that? Was I just jumping to conclusions? Kissing on the temple didn’t seem that platonic, but then again, it didn’t seem like such a big flag for “I’m attracted to you.”  
  
“Ariel!” Ginny snapped, startling me. Once I had come back to myself, I realized that I was almost hyper-ventilating.  
  
“Ginny.” I said, panic in the back of my throat, “Ginny, do you even thinks he likes me like that?”  
  
She looked thoughtful. “I’m about 98% sure he does. I know my brother and I’ve seen the way he looks at you- he likes you, I promise.”  
  
“But I’ve never kissed anyone before. And what if he tries to kiss me tonight and I suck at it? And what if that makes him laugh? If he laughs, I may just have to drown myself.” I rambled, resisting the urge to tug at my hair in anxiety.  
  
“Ariel. Ariel.” Ginny put her hands on my shoulders, shaking me slightly, “look at me.” I did. “Fred won’t laugh at you. And I’m positive that he doesn’t care that you’ve never kissed anyone. He’ll take it however slow you want to- for however much my brother flirts and jokes, he’s a gentleman and he cares about you.  
  
“Plus, it’s just swimming. Fred would plan something big if he wanted to sweep you off your feet- he’s dramatic like that.” I gave a small smile at that one, because I knew it to be true.  
  
Ginny saw my smile and looked relived; probably because I wasn’t a minute away from a panic-attack.  
  
“Sorry.” I mumbled, apologizing. I felt like an idiot for freaking out over a kiss that may not even happen.  
  
“No need to apologize, Ariel.” Ginny shrugged, “You’re new to this; it’s understandable to be nervous.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess…” I took a look at Ginny, a grin breaking out onto my face. “So- what about you and Harry?”  
  
Ginny blushed so fast I thought she was going to black-out or at least have stroke.  
  
“W-what makes you think anything about me and H-Harry?” she refused to look at me, instead picking at her pillow. I just grinned even bigger.  
  
“Maybe it’s the constant eye-sex or the fact you guys blush around each other constantly or maybe even the fact that you totally are crushing on him so hard I’m surprised you don’t faint every time you see him?” I teased, poking her in the arm. She eventually swatted me, jerkily getting up from the bed and towards the closed door.  
  
“Oh look at that, bathroom’s open. Let’s go brush our teeth and get ready for bed.”  
  
“But you can’t even see the bathroom! The doors closed!” I argued, pouting. She just ignored me and yanked the door open, escaping. I frowned before getting up and throwing my pillow onto my pull-out and leaving for the bathroom.  
  
It was in fact open; Ron and Harry must have finished their showers. Ginny was already in there putting toothpaste onto her perry-winkle toothbrush. She was still not looking at me and I laughed at her awkwardness but didn’t pressure her to tell me.  
  
We quickly brushed our teeth and went back to her room. Ginny deliberately ignored the topic of Harry in favor of different topics like Quidditch or school and what-not.  
  
I planned to go out around eleven so we still had about an hour to waste. In that time we managed to get our nails painted, braid my hair before letting it out again, and play a game of exploding snap.  
  
A few minutes before eleven, I discreetly changed into my bathing suit. There was an awkward moment as I had to have Ginny tie the back of my top.  
  
When I moved my hair to drape over my shoulder, I heard her gasp before slightly trembling fingers grabbed and tied the back tightly. I let my hair cascade across my back again, scar effectively covered, and turned towards Ginny.  
  
“I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” Ginny, looking pale, nodded before smiling. It was a true ‘I-mean-it’ smile and so I grinned in return. She handed me a towel after I pulled on shorts and a tank-top, forgoing shoes.  
  
Clutching the towel to my chest, I looked at the closed door, nervously. Ginny patted my shoulder before pushing me towards it. I grabbed the door-knob tightly, taking a deep breath, before turning it and slipping out into the hallway.  
  
It was quiet in the house and the hallway was dark. Luckily, my night-vision was good enough to pick out a safe route to the stairway. I held my breath as I tip-toed down the stairs, skipping the creaky step and making no sound what-so-ever as I headed towards the backdoor.  
  
The light on the porch was still on, casting an orange rectangle on the ground of the kitchen. I stepped through it to the door, slipping out quietly and breathing in the cool night air.  
  
It smelled like night, quiet and crisp like morning but with a softer underlayer. I heard the wheat shifting against other stocks and crickets. The air was still and the moon, despite not being full, was still bright. The light from the moon added to that of the porch was bright enough for me to see Fred standing near the boardwalk, looking up at the sky.  
  
The sight of him drew my breath from me. His normally bright red hair was a deep auburn in the night and his normally light tanned skin was pale. Fred was shirtless, wearing what looked like green board shorts and clutching a towel in his right hand.  
  
I stepped out onto the grass, feeling the cool blades collapse against my weight. The grass tickled my toes as I walked to Fred, eyes still caught on his figure. Once I was close enough, I reached out a hand to tap his shoulder.  
  
He jumped and whipped around, obviously startled and I snickered.  
  
“Sorry.” I apologized. Sometimes I forgot that how silently I could walk, even unintentionally.  
  
“Thought you’d never come.” He said, grinning.  
  
“I wanted to make sure it’d be late enough.” I replied, pushing his shoulder lightly. He went with the movement and stepped backwards, dropping his towel along the way.  
  
“C’mon. A deals a deal.” Remarked Fred, walking out onto the boardwalk. I just shook my head and tossed my towel near Fred’s discarded one. I shrugged out of my shorts and pulled off my tank-top, adding them to the pile of towels.  
  
Looking up, I caught a brief glimpse of Fred turning his head away to look at the pond. Padding over to stand beside him at the end of the dock, I stopped, shoulder to shoulder with him.  
  
“Well this looks familiar.” I teased, bumping him with my hip. He laughed, eyes sparkling. It made me smile in return.  
  
We both looked out into the pond again. Fred held out his hand and I grabbed it firmly in mine, entwining our fingers. It enveloped mine into a dry, warm palm and I liked the feeling of it too much.  
  
We both took a deep breath, both of us nervous for the shock of cold water, before simultaneously leaping off the dock. There was a flurry of bubbles and the over-bearing feeling of icy water.  
  
I broke the surface, gasping in shock. Fred was right next to me, snorting water out of his nose.  
  
What a guy I have chosen.  
  
“Oh gods, there’s water in my brain, I know it. Bloody freezing water. This was a terrible idea, how could you?” he ranted, coughing out water and words alike.  
  
“My idea?” I shrilled, voice not properly working in the cold. We both treaded water and my toes were slowly loosing feeling.  
  
“Yes, your idea!” he indignantly, obviously trying not to smile. I just huffed, turning towards the dock so that he wouldn’t see my smile. I grabbed the edge of it, pulling myself up and out of the water with trembling arms.  
  
No way was I staying in there any longer than strictly necessary. Fred copied my motions and soon we were both standing, dripping onto the previously dry wood. Walking back towards the towels, I tried to wring out my hair the best I could.  
  
The previously cool night air was now down-right chilly so I quickly toweled myself as dry as I could get with waist long hair. I was wiping my stomach when I felt Fred walk up behind me, in a rare silence.  
  
I straightened and tensed, knowing what had caught his attention. His finger trailed from my left shoulder to my right, gathering up my hair and tumbling it across my front, exposing my back completely.  
  
I swallowed convulsing- adrenaline thrumming in my veins. Two people have seen the scars tonight and one of them was looking at them in extreme detail.  
  
His fingers trailed from the tip of the longest scar all the way down my back, raising goose-bumps and I shivered. Fred did this to each of the scars, skipping over the strap of my bathing-suit and my breathing was shallow, emotion of some kind building up in my throat.  
  
Several minutes passed as he felt the smooth skin of my scars. He stepped closer after a moment and I was able to feel the heat of him on my back, raising even more goose-bumps that raced down my arms and front.  
  
I felt him move before feeling the brush of lips at the top of my spine, just above a scar. The breath left me in a whoosh and my stomach clenched.  
  
“You don’t have to tell me now.” His voice was rough and cracked slightly at the end as he spoke against my skin. Fred’s arms smoothed down my sides and wrapped around me as he rested his head on the shoulder that wasn’t holding all my hair.  
  
He hugged me from behind tightly and buried his face into the juncture of my shoulder. I rested my arms on his, fingers absentmindedly stoking the warm skin. Under the pond water smell, I could still pick out his scents and that reassured me more than I could say.  
  
He rubbed his face into my skin and my head titled to the side a bit.  
  
“I want to protect you, Ariel. Am I crazy?” he whispered, breath warm against my chilled skin.  
  
“Yes.” I gasped, struggling for something to say. “I smell like pond.”  
  
He gave a chuckle that relaxed all of the muscles I hadn’t realized were tight with emotion. I shifted in his hold, not breaking it, but molding myself to him, revealing in the warmth and security that was Fred.  
  
“There’s something I need to tell you.” I swallowed again, mouth dry with an absent fear that was always a constant when it came to my condition. “But not here. Not now. Later, when we’re all together.” I continued.  
  
He was quiet for a moment, “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”  
  
 _That’s the thing,_  I wanted to tell him,  _I don’t think I ever would be._  
  
But I had to be.  
  
And I would.


	15. The Act of Coming Clean

After that wonderful, albeit slightly stressful night with Fred, the week passed with laughter and comfort and I honestly felt content for once with my life. The looming terror of telling my friends my darkest secret was a bit of a downer, sure, but I wasn’t going to back down from it.  
  
They had to find out eventually- it just so happened that they’d find out sooner rather than later.  
  
On the last day of break, we met Hermione at King’s Cross and boarded the train to Hogwarts feeling both despondent that break was over, but also excited to go back- Umbridge not withstanding.  
  
Again we managed to crowd into a singular booth and spent the ride cramped but happy with the company.  
  
Classes started the same the day after, signaling that I had six days until the full moon and six days until Hermione told everyone if I didn’t.  
  
It also meant that I had a Quidditch game the next day against Ravenclaw.  
  
Umbridge was just as unbearable as ever during class but I was distracted by the excitement for the game, the terror of revealing my secret, and this really cute doodle of Lafyet I was working on.  
  
Needless to say, she didn’t faze me in the slightest, no matter how prominent the scars from my detention were still.  
  
The day of the game was crisp but had a hint of warmth that smelled of spring. The ground was squishy with dew and the sky was ridiculously pretty. Ginny and I spent the morning stretching and running drills for the game.  
  
I also worked with the other Chasers, remarkably in sync with them despite only being on the team for a few weeks.  
  
The other team was formidable- having won over Slytherin in the game before. They were seamless in their drills but I was confident that we could squeeze in a win.  
  
Before long, the rest of the school followed in. It was easy to spot Ron, Fred, and George (and by extension Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Luna) from the mass of people due to their amazing hair color.  
  
They were high in the stands but close enough that you could still make out the sweaters that Fred and George wore when Ginny and I first played against each other.  
  
Guess they still weren’t taking sides.  
  
The group cheered and waved with the rest of the school and Ginny and I took a moment to float up to them.  
  
“Good luck, guys!” Neville called, blushing slightly.  
  
“Thanks, Neville!” Ginny and I replied, waving. The rest of the group parroted the sentiment before we had to set up to start the game. I double checked my bracers and my greaves and the sticking-spell on my right hand.  
  
All of them seemed to be just fine so I shifted on my broom, setting my feet on the bars by the tail and changing over to the game mind-set. Instantly, my heart-beat quickened and my eye’s sharpened.  
  
The animal instincts from the bite infused with my natural senses, opening and expanding them so it’s like I took in everything. All the information catalogued to be of importance or not.  
  
I took in the force of the wind, the tension of my muscles, the shifting of the other players as they got ready for throw-off. I was in the right-hand position of the middle circle since my being left-handed would give me a few extra inches in reach.  
  
Madam Hooch stood by the box of Quidditch balls, taking in each player of the teams. She nodded, apparently satisfied, before kicking open the box. Instantly, the bludgers and the snitch erupted from the case, shooting off to god knows where.  
  
Madam Hooch calmly picked up the Quaffle, delicately placed her whistle between her lips, and thrust the ball high into the air with a sharp noise.  
  
Between one moment and the rest, I blasted from my stationary position, catching the other team off guard with the ferocity of my lunge. The Quaffle settled against my fingertips, and then palm, before I twirled underneath the opposing player in front of me and raced close to the ground towards the goal posts.  
  
Then, it was a flurry of colors, movement, and reactions. My breath caught my throat as I ducked and weaved between opposing players, slowly making ground towards the end of the field.  
  
I passed the Quaffle off to Katie, twisting to avoid running straight into the wooden fence of the field because some chick from the other team was crowding me.  
  
The Quaffle, however, was quickly passed back to me so I rocketed towards the goals, trying to take account of where everyone was despite the deafening cheer of the crowd.  
  
I was in the process of trying to figure out how I was going to elude the two chasers following me when there was a blur of dark in the corner of my eye. Then there was the eruption of pain against the side of my face, like I’d been hit with a bat.  
  
Or maybe a bludger.  
  
In the moment of completely unprepared for  _pain_ , I felt my lip split and my jaw crack. There was the distant outraged cry from the crowd as the pain roared into my skull, disorienting me and making me fumble the Quaffle, almost upsetting me from my broom.  
  
I kept a grip on it, struggling to right myself and my eye site which was dangerously unfocused. My jaw ached and I felt blood drip down my chin from my split lip.  
  
Okay.  
  
Now, I meant business.  
  
Without loosing speed, I looped around and shot off after the guy who’d caught the fumbled Quaffle.  
  
Beyond that, the game was intense. Neither team gained a significant lead over the other. It kept on for roughly an hour, giving enough time for my split lip to stop bleeding and cause a pleasant ache in my muscles from significant use.  
  
Finally though,  _finally_ , as I was spotting Angelina towards the opposing goal posts, we were startled by the eruption of the crowed to a deafening level. Our heads swiveled around, and saw Ginny in the middle of the pitch, fist thrust up in the air, clutching a gold object.  
  
“Hell yeah!” I cheered, “Way to kick-ass, Ginny!” Racing over to her, I bumped into her broom, looping an arm around her shoulder as the pitch erupted even louder. We drifted down to the ground where the crows had begun to flow onto from the stands.  
  
In the middle of said riot were my friends, waiting with upturn faces for Ginny and I to descend. After quickly dropping down, Ginny and I were crushed into several hugs and laughed and screamed along with the group.  
  
I smiled widely and cheered, despite the stinging in my lip, probably causing it to start bleeding again, but I didn’t care. I’d won my first Quidditch game!  
  
Looking around at the happy faces of all my friends as they rode the euphoria of winning, I felt something lift off my shoulders. I could tell them- I could.  
  
“Hey guys!” I ushered them in, bringing us closer together until I had their attention.  
  
“Look,” I licked my lip, tasting blood, “I need to talk to you guys tonight. Meet in the Room of Requirement during the party, okay?” They looked confused, but still happy and nodded their consent.  
  
My stomach cramped with the anxiety but I felt strong enough to do it. They would understand- right?  
  
Of course they would.  
  
Just then, I was jostled back into reality by the bustling of the crowd. The Quidditch players were lead back into the changing rooms and the rest of the crowd was ushered off the field and back towards the castle.  
  
The sun was setting when we’d finally left the locker rooms; Angelina having talked our ear off for a good forty-five minutes while Ginny wiped and took take of my split lip- rubbing some type of crème on it that healed it up to a pink line.  
  
The light of the setting sun left the sky a ruddy color and I smiled softly.  
  
I remembered a time where my parents and I used to sit out on the porch swing and watch the sunset until the fireflies would emerge and I’d run around, giggling, trying to catch them while my parents watched with held hands.  
  
It’d been a long time since then and I’d forgotten what that’d felt like until Spring Break. Actually having family dinners and playing games together.  
  
I sighed, heart clenching a bit at the thought of family. Ginny called me to walk faster, already at the top of the incline towards the castle. Casting aside my heart-ache, I just laughed and ran after her, legs not really properly working from the previous usage.  
  
Quidditch really did work a lot of muscles.  
  
We raced towards the castle together and inside the stone walls, both of us laughing on our way to the common room. We passed several downtrodden looking Ravenclaw’s and several pissed of Slytherin’s but we didn’t care.  
  
The stairs to the common room  _killed_  my legs but I still beat Ginny there, puffing and dying for air but still victorious. We gave the password and were caught off guard by the sudden blast of music and cheers and pure palatable joy from inside the Gryffindor Common Room.  
  
I spent the next couple hours drinking butterbeer and eating non-prank sweets provided by Fred and George and Honeydukes. I danced with Neville and chatted with Luna, who loved riddles and taught me a few. I played a game with Harry and made polite chatter with Hermione, who I still felt a little awkward about considering the deadline and all.  
  
Ron and I danced also, though we both sucked worse than Neville who could out-dance almost anyone. The music wasn’t AC/DC or Van Halen but the Weird Sisters and Grey Phoenix which was totally okay with me.  
  
After those few hours though, long enough that people who weren’t celebrating had gone to bed but the people who were to not be paying attention to everything at once, I knew it was time for me to tell them.  
  
So I rounded up my friends- Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George- and we snuck off as discretely as we could to the Room of Requirement, getting more and more anxious the closer I got.  
  
I could tell they were curious when we got in, the room morphing itself into the standard Dumbledore’s Army training room, grate floor, mirrors on all the walls, cork-board in the back with pictures and news clippings.  
  
For the first time tonight, I was nervous. Not knowing how to go about telling them. My friends sat down on the steps leading to the grate floor and I stood in front of them, ringing my hands, probably looking sufficiently guilty.  
  
“What’s this all about?” Harry asked quietly, eyebrows drawing down in confusion. Ron echoed the sentiment.  
  
I opened my mouth to answer him but nothing came out. Frustrated at myself, I groaned, hands flying up to thread through my hair. I started pacing, glaring at the floor as if it held all the answers to my speechlessness.  
  
I turned back to them and opened my mouth again, only my heart leapt up into my throat.  
  
I could feel the hysteria start and I had to take a deep breath. Fred started getting up, making as is if to come and comfort me or hug me or something.  
  
“No no no.” My hands flew out in front of me in the universal “Stop” signal and he froze, halfway to his feet, looking just as confused as the rest of them- and maybe a little bit scared also which I desperately didn’t want.  
  
I closed my eyes, stubbornly grounding myself. I was being dramatic and stupid and needed to get this over with. Taking a deep breath, I shoved the figurative heart back into my chest cavity and started speaking.  
  
“When I was ten years old, my family and I were attacked by a werewolf…”  
  
 _It was the type of day that promised a big storm- the sky was a dark, ugly grey, thick with thunderclouds and humidity. I was angry at my parents, being an insolent child, angry at them for not letting me go away to summer camp with my friends. It’d only be for three weeks, and all of my friends had been going so I had to also. So, I ran outside, away from the house and out into the electrified air of the oncoming storm._  
  
I ran to my tree-house, being over-dramatic and resolute on staying in there until my parents changed their minds. They had to- I had no food in my tree house and they surely wouldn’t let me starve.  
  
So I sat there, refusing to leave until my parents had changed their mind when the air erupted in a scream. Almost simultaneously, the sky split apart with thunder- drowning out the scream before the rain came slashing down. It was then just a flurry of noise and I had been scared by the thunder and the scream that I was sure I had heard.  
  
Climbing down from my tree-house, the one my daddy had built me when I was seven and obsessed with power-tools, I ran over to the house, quickly being drenched in the cold rain. The droplets were fat and they hurt so I clambered up onto the porch that wrapped around my house.  
  
Just as I reached the backdoor however, the window next to me exploded with a flash of purple sparks and sharp glass. Too terrified to even scream, I started dumbly at the shredded hole in the window before my gaze shifted to the door.  
  
My hand was shaking when I reached for the doorknob. The door opened smoothly, silently, to a massacre. The living room had been ransacked, tears in the cushions of the couch, the table flipped over and a leg broken, glass sprinkling the floor like harmful diamonds.  
  
And there was blood. So much blood. My father was slumped over the arm of a chair, my mother standing defiantly in front of him, protecting him from a dark shadow, her wand sparking fire.  
  
I knew that she was yelling something- her eyes flitting from me to the shadow and back again- I knew that the shadow was laughing, from the way its shoulders were shaking.  
  
But all I could hear was the thrumming of blood through my veins and the reverberation of thunder. There was the scrape of air into my lungs and vicious beat of my heart.  
  
I couldn’t hear her yelling at me, but I heard her scream.  
  
In the blink of an eye, the shadow had leapt forward as my mom was reaching for me, raking its talons across her chest, splattering the wall and me with her blood. It was still warm and felt scalding on my skin as her scream pierced my ears.  
  
There was a rush of sound as the rain came back and I heard the raspy laughter of the shadow as my mother slumped to the floor- too still, too silent.  
  
Mom.  
  
I was frozen- I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t feel my legs or my arms or anything. Air was thick in my throat, breathing was not an option.  
  
Then,  
  
Slowly.  
  
Oh- so slowly,  
  
The shadow turned towards me- a flash of lightning illuminating its blood red eyes and hairy face. Yellow fangs poked out from its protruding jaw, flecked with spittle and runny strands of saliva.  
  
There was thick, matted dark hair covering its bowed over body. Claws dripped red and extended longer than my ten year old forearm.  
  
The werewolf’s lips pulled back around sharp teeth in a grotesque imitation of a grin.  
  
“Run” the werewolf said.   
  
My heart beat slowed down as my story drew to a close. My hands were cold and shaky and glimpses of shadows flickered behind my minds eye, reminding me of the darkness of that day.  
  
When I focused on my friends again, I was met with shocked faces. Ginny was pale, paler than usual and Hermione had her hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes.  
  
“After that day, and after I got out of St. Mungo’s, I was shipped of to an orphanage in the United States. Being a werewolf got me kicked out of 4 schools over there before Dumbledore brought me here.”  
  
Taking a deep breath, I fought down the self-pitying anger that rose in my chest, “Only the werewolf venom reacts with my Veela blood awfully. I’m not able to fully shift so I spend my full-moons constantly changing from human to werewolf and back again, never settling until the night is over. It’s excruciating.”  
  
Hermione let out a sob at that and I wanted to go comfort her and tell her it’s okay, I’m fine, I only hurt sometimes but I had to finish my story.  
  
“There’s also the fact that since the venom got all screwed up with my Veela blood, my features changed after my first moon. I used to have blue eyes and all my senses got sharper- smell, hearing, sight, the works. And they get even stronger the week before and after the full moon.  
  
“Hermione found me out about a month ago- and told me I had to tell you guys, so I wouldn’t hurt you. Only,” I stopped, my throat closing with burning tears, “I’m terrified of hurting someone. Any one. Especially you guys. I can’t- ”  
  
The tears that I kept back since I started the story finally spilled over and raced down my cheeks. Angrily, I wiped them away, rubbing my eyes raw in an attempt to not break down into chest-wracking sobs.  
  
“That’s the reason for the scars on your back.” Ginny whispered, and I nodded.  
  
Ron looked confused, “Scars? What scars?”  
  
“Ron don’t be so-” Ginny started, but I cut her off.  
  
“No- it’s fine. Might as well show you guys.” Slipping my hair forward onto my front, I turned around and reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up in the back so my scars were mostly exposed.  
  
Harry whistled, “Wow- and I thought mine was bad.”  
  
Startled, I laughed a little and felt enormously lighter for it. I fixed my shirt and turned back to my friends, now at a loss of what to say.  
  
Hermione was looking at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry I made you tell them- I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you and awful and I am so sorry.”  
  
I shook my head, “It’s alright, ‘Mione. I was going to tell you guys eventually, I just didn’t know how. You’re the first people to find out not by accident, other than Dumbledore.” Hermione stood up and walked towards me, her eyes still bright with recent tears. She enveloped me into a hug and I hugged her back fiercely.  
  
“I’m sorry.” She whispered into my ear and I just hugged her tighter.  
  
When we broke apart, George spoke, “So- you’re a werewolf? That’s what you’ve been keeping from us.”  
  
I nodded, “I’m sorry. It’s something that was created during the scariest moment of my life, something that has lost me friends and gotten me kicked out of school. I don’t like telling people and then having them look at me like I’m a monster.”  
  
“Ariel, don’t be sorry. We understand- stuff like that is hard to tell people.” Harry spoke up. My heart panged painfully in my chest yet at the same time released all that pent up anxiety and nervousness and dread that they’d hate me for being a werewolf.  
  
Dropping my eyes to the ground, unable to watch their faces in the event this question got me a painful answer, I asked them, “So, can we still be friends? Even though I’m a mon- a werewolf?”  
  
Ron was the first to reply, “Of course! Why the bugger should that even matter?”  
  
The rest of my friends echoed his compliance and the tears that I had rubbed from my eyes earlier, built again.  
  
“Thank you.” I said, as sincerely as possible with my blubbery crying voice. I looked to Fred and found him staring intently at me. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or what- and he hadn’t said a thing the whole time.  
  
Ginny saw us staring at each other and her eyebrows shot up.  
  
Quickly, she stood, “Okay guys that was a nice little chat but we should really be going to bed now and what-not.” She yanked up Harry and Ron by the upper arms roughly, dragging them to the door. Hermione quickly caught on and pushed George towards the exit also.  
  
A blush bloomed on my cheeks, could they be more obvious? George sent me a salacious wink from over his shoulder and I wanted to bury myself in a hole and never come out.  
  
Harry wisely said nothing while Ron questioned Ginny angrily.  
  
Let lightning strike me down, please.  
  
When they finally left, and the thick metal door closed with a thunk, I turned my attention to Fred and found him standing up.  
  
His eyes were slightly narrowed, but not in anger. Fred walked toward me slowly, with calculating steps, as if he didn’t want to startle me or maybe he didn’t want to scare himself.  
  
He stopped a hairs breadth away from me, and if I were to take a deep enough breath my chest would touch his. I locked eyes with him, his ridiculous blue eyes flitting between my yellow ones.  
They roamed my face, my cheeks, the curve of my neck and shoulder. A hand came up, searingly hot even under two layers, and smoothed over my hip. It traveled to my lower back before the tips of his fingers met the hem of my shirt.  
  
He caught my eye and waited for a second before slipping his fingers underneath and touching bare skin. I sucked in sharply and hissed out a breath when the tips of his fingers found the edge of a scar.  
  
Sparks shot into my spine and my hands came up to clutch his arms as I swayed. His gaze traveled to my lips. I unconsciously licked them and heard him inhale quickly.  
  
We had to talk though- there needed to be understanding and words before…  
  
Before…  
  
“I had to tell you first.” I whispered, voice small.  
  
Fred look back to my eyes, and smiled, brows smoothing, and his posture becoming more relaxed.  
  
“I still want to protect you, Ariel. Am I crazy?” he said softly, leaning in even closer. If I raised on my toes just a touch, our lips would meet.  
  
“Yes,” I replied, “I’m a werewolf.”  
  
“I know.” He smiled even wider.  
  
So I kissed him.


	16. Notification

Please note that this is not a chapter.  
  
It's been a while since I've been on Mibba and truth be told, I've been neglecting my story, but just recently, I've come back to word that my story has apparently been stolen. That someone, not me, has been posting it on a different site without my permission and passing it on as their own.  
  
I'm trying to look into this but I haven't been able to find it on the site.  
  
If anyone has found my story on a site called "Quotev.com" please,  _please_  send me the link and report the story if that is possible.  
  
If someone has, in fact, been posting my story without my permission and saying it's theirs, I refuse to write any more until it's been taken down and the person properly dealt with.  
  
Plagerism is deplorable and I'm infuriated that someone would do that.  
  
Sincerely, kigle.  
  
P.S. If the person who stole my story is reading this, then please help yourself to one big, fat fuck you because such an act is literally inexcusable. If you want to get nice comment about a story, then build up your writing skill and write one yourself because stealing someone else's is rude, stupid, and you're just making yourself look bad.  
  
You have to use someone else's talent and work, not your own and you're just making up the habit to coast along on what other people toil over. Good luck getting over that habit and getting anywhere in life, fuck-face.


	17. The Act of Hell

First off, I’d like to give a special thanks to everyone that messaged or commented with support and condolences- you guys are great, I mean it.  
  
Secondly, as you’ve probably guessed, the posting of this chapter means that the story was taken down and I would like to give a super-big extra thanks to cara_beara for reporting it and getting it taken down while also being the one to tell me that my story was stolen in the first place- I owe her a big, big hug for that.  
  
Third (I’m almost done, I promise), I made this chapter short on purpose and I’m sorry if any of you guys were sad and wanted more writing but don’t worry, there will be more. It just so happens that the chapter being purposefully short is to make it more intense (because I am evil like that).  
  
Sincerely, with tons of love and gushing, kigle.

Please enjoy.

* * *

I’ve said it before.  
  
I’ve never kissed anyone.  
  
And I’m okay with that.  
  
Kinda.  
  
I mean, when you try actively to not make friends or even a boyfriend, you tend to have no use for kissing skills, really, so it should come to no surprise to anyone, that the only ability I have involving kissing was from what I learned when reading those sappy romance books that I don’t secretly harbor in the bottom of my trunk.  
  
I knew that I would kiss someone eventually; however that didn’t stop me from completely mentally freaking out when I actually did so.  
  
Especially when the person I was kissing didn’t respond.  
  
Yeah, that kinda hurt.  
  
Fred froze when my lips first touched his. It was only for a few seconds but in that time, my heart kick started and thudded in my chest. I was nervous, unsure, insecure, and completely anxious yet I’d never felt so brave in my life.  
  
His lips were dry, not quite soft, but firm under mine. This close, I smelt pine, and apple, and cinnamon, along with skin and the scent of clean clothes. He smelled of the butterbeer he’d been drinking earlier and like dancing bodies.  
  
My eyes were closed, so I didn’t have to see his face but after a few heartbeats and he still hadn’t responded, I fell back to my heels and opened my eyes. Fred was motionless in front of me, eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression.  
  
I tried not to panic, tried to fight the feeling that I should be running. It was just Fred.  
  
Looking into his eyes that was searching for something in mine was too much, so I settled for gazing hard at his Adam’s apple, cheeks blushing so red I could feel my face burning.  
  
I was waiting for him to say something when the hand was my hip and the one that had been at his side, smoothed up my arms and shoulders to cup my neck. His thumbs pressed hot into the underside of my jaw, tilting it up.  
  
It was impossible then to look at anything but his eyes, which were now serious and dark with a determination not unlike when he was making something new for the joke store.  
  
With the hands cupped at my neck, he pulled me forward and I went, boneless, until we were pressed together, knee to chest. Fred was warm in a way that all boys seem to radiate. It raised goose-bumps on my skin and constricted my lungs.  
  
I couldn’t do anything but let him lead. My head was clouded with panic and anticipation and it was hard to breath right.  
  
His eyes flitted from mine, down to my lips and my heart thudded painfully in my chest. Fred looked back to my eyes for just a second, checking, before leaning his head down, and pressing his closed lips to mine.  
  
It was chaste, just the smallest pressure that made my stomach clench with something I couldn’t identify. My hands jerked and gripped his sides, near the cut of his hipbones, palatable even under two shirts.  
  
Fred drew back for a second, his eyes even darker than before to look at me, checking again. My breathing was shallow and quick and my hands were still clenched on his hips, grasping mostly his shirt and bunching it.  
  
He was still looking, still checking… something? To see if I was okay? I was more than okay but he was still taking too long.  
  
I rose on my tip- toes again, matching our lips up again of my own will, with more pressure and much more confidence than before. My lips molded to his and the hands at my jaw pulled me even closer if that was possible.  
  
Fred sighed, and began kissing in earnest. Behind my closed lids, there was little white sparks and breathing certainly wasn’t an option. The hands at his waist clenched tighter and I tried to lift higher on my toes, trying to get more, trying to do anything to make this fire in my chest grow, to fill me up.  
  
It’s like my skin was too small, like the temperature in the room rose twenty degrees.  
  
All from one kiss.  
  
All from Fred’s kiss.  
  
He pulled back seconds later, and I tried to follow him, not wanting to break this wonderful thing. Fred chuckled slightly, but it was hoarse and deeper than normal and made me want to do completely inappropriate things.  
  
When my eyes opened, he was staring at me, a sparkle in his eyes and his eyes crinkled at the corners in his crooked grin. I couldn’t help but grin back.  
  
“If this is what being crazy is like, count me in.” He said, grin widening to show white teeth. I laughed and quickly snuck in another kiss that made his smile grow a bit dopey.  
  
It wasn’t long after that, when we headed back to the now deserted common-room and to bed. My skin still felt hot and I couldn’t drop the stupid smile that kept appearing on my face.  
  
It was easy to sleep that night, despite the full moon looming closer. I suffered no nightmares and woke up happy still. My friends still liked me, still supported me, and I totally kissed Fred.  
  
And he totally kissed me back.  
  
Needless to say, it was the least stressed I’d been in ages.  
  
Ginny shot me a knowing look over the table at breakfast when the smile still tugged at the corners of my mouth and I couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
Things went down hill from there though.  
  
On Wednesday, after the D.A. meeting, we were ambushed by the stupid Hall Monitor group that Draco led. Fred and I hid in a dark alcove as my hand burned to hex Malfoy into oblivion.  
  
That night, Dumbledore left, resisting capture, and disappearing in fire and smoke. Harry told us with a grim face that Umbridge was the new headmistress.  
  
Hatred burned in my chest, that- that  _deplorable_  woman drove away the first person to trust me for who I am, not what I am.  
  
Then, without me noticing, it was the day of the full moon. All of my friends that knew now, threw me anxious glances and Fred kept brushing his hand with mine, trying to give comfort without being too obvious.  
  
Last night had been rough, nightmares plaguing me and all too soon, I was walking to the Shrieking Shack. The castle was dark and quiet and shadows haunted both my mind and my body.  
  
More than once, I thought I felt a presence but never saw anything so I chalked it up to my being more tired than normal and stressed about the full moon.  
  
Before I’d like to think about, I was strapped to the table in the Shack, trying not to shake, not to fall into the darkness of self-pity and desperation.  
  
The change was excruciating, like always, but worse this time around since I hadn’t taken wolfs bane this week. I feared my teeth would crack from my clenched jaw and it was all I could do to count and try not to panic.  
  
I could never get used to the pain.  
  
I would never get used to it.  
  
Thankfully, I got through the night, tired and exhausted but thankful it was over for at least another month. Methodically, I bathed and got dressed slowly, sore and bruised and broken.  
  
And then, the worst happened.  
  
I had just entered the castle doors, cold from the walk and more tired than ever, my headache already growing fast when a hand winded itself in my hair, yanking my head back.  
  
It was still dark in the early morning and all I could see was the ceiling, so I had no way to tell who my attacker was.  
  
Instantly, I started thrashing, bumping every bruise but hands gripped my arms behind my back and the cool tip of a wand pressed to my neck made me freeze.  
  
My heart thudded hard in my chest, adrenaline was making me tense. I smelled leather and spearmint, a combination of scents I’d never before experienced.  
  
Cursing my weakness, knowing that if it wasn’t just after the full-moon, when I wasn’t so tired and dead to all senses, I would’ve been able to fight off whoever was attacking me.  
  
Rope, warm from being conjured, wrapped around my arms, binding my forearms together behind my back. The hand holding my hair pulled backwards roughly and I snarled, thrashing my shoulders.  
  
Suddenly, the wand at my neck grew white hot and I yelped at the burn.  
  
“That was just a warning.” A sneering voice said and my stomach dropped out of my body.  
  
“Malfoy.” I growled, anger making my stomach clench and my chest tight.  
  
“And Bulstrode.” An entirely too chipper voice grated in my ear. Obviously she was the one still gripping my hair.  
  
I bared my teeth at Malfoy, animalistic urges surging through my body to fight and maim and kill any threat. “What do you want?”  
  
He laughed then, that cocky bastard, smiling in a way that was cold and cruel.  
  
“Oh Vanderwik, it’s not what I want, but what I’m going to do.” My skin went cold and it was all I could do to not show any fear, fear of what dreaded thing Malfoy could do, what Malfoy was going to do.  
  
“You see,” he purred, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “I know your secret.”  
  
And just like that, I was terrified. My stomach was gone, but I still felt like throwing up. My heart was beating so hard and fast it  _hurt_. I couldn’t breathe and for the first time in a long time, I wanted my parents to hold me and hug me and tell me everything was going to be okay.  
  
Bulstrode pushed me forward then, and Malfoy followed at my side, wand still pressed dangerously into my neck. We made our way to the Great Hall, loud with the sound of kids at breakfast, laughing and blissfully ignorant to the terror I was experiencing.  
  
I thought about resisting, about throwing myself backwards and trying to fight my way out despite my weakness and inability to grab my wand. Despite the wand pressed into my neck and my arms being bound.  
  
But what would I do? Draco would tell after that, without a doubt. It would only happen later rather than right now. I couldn’t stop him from telling everyone, I could only delay him and that wasn’t worth the risk.  
  
I didn’t have anywhere to go. I could run and be hunted down like the animal the venom tried to make me. No one would side with a werewolf. No one would protect me if that happened.  
  
It was hard to not close my eyes when they pushed the Great Doors open. To block out the shocked stares and incredulous faces. Malfoy swaggered inside, grinning like he’s just won the Wizarding Cup.  
  
My eyes flitted to my friends that sat, shocked at the Gryffindor table. Harry shot up, obviously with the intent to help me.  
  
“Sit down, Potter. You wouldn’t want Vanderwik here to get another pretty little burn, would you?” Bulstrode tittered, probably grinning maliciously. He froze in place, green eyes murderous, along with all my other friends.  
  
I refused to look at Fred, knowing he’d see my fear, knowing he’d come to help me if he did. I kept my eyes on the Head Table, where McGonagall was white and confused and Umbridge was smiling like Christmas had come early.  
  
“Mr. Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?” Umbridge asked when we made it up to the head table, smiling at her favorite student, obviously not enraged that he ambushed and bound me.  
  
Malfoy’s smirk grew wider and his eyes grew colder. The wand pressed harder into my neck and I fought a wince.  
  
“Headmistress Umbridge, it seems Miss Vanderwik her has been hiding something from all of us.” He started, voice loud and traveling in the open space of the Hall.  
  
I refused to close my eyes. I refused to show fear. I refused to be intimidated by some fat woman that stole the job of one of the very few people I trusted.  
  
My mouth pressed into a thin line and I glared at Umbridge, showing no fear for what see could do to me, despite the fact that my knees were shaking.  
  
“Vanderwik, here, is a werewolf.”  
  
The air whooshed out of my lungs and my eyes burned with tears and frustration and anger and rage and despair. Gasps and frenzied whispers erupted then, echoing in the hall and building until it threatened to swallow me. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs wouldn’t work.  
  
Umbridge smiled, viscous and sadistic. She took her time getting up, wiping her mouth and folding her napkin before placing it on the table. She scooted back her chair and walked around the front of the table to stand before me.  
  
She stopped on a step, making herself taller than me for the moment but I did not cower, didn’t blink, didn’t waver.  
  
Umbridge was watching me, before she smiled again and looked to Malfoy.  
  
“Lucky for us, I know  _exactly_  how to deal with this little disfigurement.” The fat witch pulled her wand from her pink handbag and waved it in a circle before her, focusing intently.  
  
I didn’t flinch, but felt no pain or burning or sparks or anything.  
  
Something conjured before her. It was a round band of thick dark leather with a large gold buckle that had runes etched into it.  
  
I was confused for a moment before I gasped, realizing what it was.  
  
It was a collar.


	18. The Act of Crashing

For a moment, everything stood still. My lungs wouldn't cooperate, my skin was chilled, there was a trembling in my fingers that I couldn't control.

Blood rushed in my ears, drowning out everything but a vicious beat of my aching heart. Distantly I noticed McGonagall get up, face livid and stern.

She seemed to be arguing with Umbridge, shaking her head and getting angrier by the minute. I struggled through a sharp breath and then sound and feeling rushed back.

“... have no proof!” McGonagall was saying, biting out the words.

Malfoy shook his head beside me. “I watched her sneak out to the Shrieking Shack myself and come back thing morning looking like someone had beat her. The bruises at her joints are from shifting and she obviously didn't sleep last night.”

“Probably because she was too busy turning into a monster.” Bulstrode sneered and I resisted the urge to flinch.

Anger started trickling in now, worming past the horror and fear. How could I have been so much of a fool to underestimate him? Wasn't that always a fatal mistake?

How could I have been so stupid as to think I could have fooled anyone.

“That sounds like enough proof for me.” Umbridge tittered, shifting the collar. Snarling, I bared my teeth at her, that trickle of rage exploding into a fury that boiled my insides.

How dare she?! I'm not some animal to be tied up! How dare she want to collar me?!

As my anger grew, the animalistic side of me that had been amplified by the werewolf venom reacted, a survival mechanism that sharpened everything. My gums ached- my canines enlarging, pushing outwards from my jaw. My muscles felt shifted slightly, toning and leaning up. My fingernails lengthened and sharpened, cutting into the palms of my hand.

I wasn't tired and sore and weak anymore. I felt fire rush through my body, setting me alight. The hybrid strength that coiled within me rose and I was no longer afraid of the stupid, fat witch in front of me. The rope around my arms no longer felt strong and constricting- instead they felt weak and nothing compared to the anger that fueled my own strength.

I was iron and rage.

In less than a heartbeat, I reacted.

I slammed my head backwards, smashing the crown of my skull against Bulstrode's face, breaking her nose with a sick crunch. She howled with pain and flailed with her right arm. Ducking under it, I twisted, snapping the rope around my arms with no effort. In the same movement, I reached for my wand, which had been tucked into the front of my skirt.

It all happened so fast it was still a few seconds before Malfoy had the sense to point his wand at me. I was in a defensive stance, feet spread wide, wand sparking with my agitated magic.

Umbridge hadn't moved. She, instead, was gazing calmly at me which was unnerving. Bulstrode was still moaning and clutching her nose which was pouring blood down her neck.

The aspects of the werewolf- large canines, sharpened nails, leaner muscles- had calmed down a little since I got my wand in my hand. But I still saw red, I still was pulsing with anger at the bitch who wanted to collar me for something that happened once a month in a controlled environment.

“MissVanderwik, think carefully about your next move.” Umbridge started, “You have no where else to go. Your parents are dead, no school will accept you once I tell them what you are, if I expel you, you will have no home here, or anywhere else in the magical world because no one would take a monster like you.

“My duty as headmistress is to keep my students safe and I can't do that if we have a wild animal running around which is why we need the collar. But, if you choose to reject it, you will be expelled and forced to leave the grounds immediately. Think wisely.”

Forcing myself to breathe was difficult. If I was expelled, I couldn't go back to the orphanage, wouldn't want to go back to that dismal place. My kind wasn't accepted in the magical world. I wasn't of age yet so I wouldn't be able to get a job, not that anyone would hire a werewolf even if I was of age. My friends, the only ones I had, would be here, where I couldn't join them.

I had just found people who accepted me for what I was, I found a boy who liked me despite that, and I could lose them all.

I would be alone again.

I would be alone and heartbroken.

And for as strong as I prided myself to be, I wouldn't be able to handle it.

Not again.

I didn't know what the collar would do to me, but whatever is was, it was worth staying with my friends. Was worth staying with people that liked me for me.

Glancing up at McGonagall, I saw her shake her head, almost imperceptibly and just like that, I'd decided. The anger, which had fueled me before, faded away and I was left hollow and so, so tired.

I shifted from my defensive stance, canines shrinking, my wand stopped sparking. Umbridge smiled cruelly, knowing that I had chosen the collar to stay with the people who I liked to think of as my family now.

She shuffled closer and it took everything in me not to back up because for however much I hated her, the power she had over me now scared me. Umbridge unbuckled the thick leather of the collar, reaching up to wind it around my neck, covering my thrumming pulse.

I stood with my chin high, despite the aching of my heart. It clenched painfully as I heard the collar buckle into place.

And it was like any will I had was sucked into the collar, any power and strength left in my veins was gone and it was hard not to stagger to my knees. Tears built up in my eyes, blurring Umbridge and Malfoy and the bleeding Bulstrode.

I didn't care if she dismissed me or not. I took a step backwards and then turned, my chin still high, my knees shaking with the absence of hybrid strength I was used to. Looking at my friends who sat speechless at the Gryffindor table was not an option- looking anywhere but the Great Hall doors wasn't an option.

It was strangely silent for a room of a few hundred people, and I didn't have to look to know the stares that were going around. The stares that were aimed at me- I'd had five years experience with stares aimed at me.

So, I walked out of the Great Hall, alone with my thoughts, which seemed to be absent. I didn't know how long I walked.

Or where.

Only that, all too soon, the muscles in my legs, tired from the nights shifting and the anxiety and terror, gave out, sending me crashing forward. Landing on my knees and the heels of my palms against the stone floor hard enough to rip the skin, I just stayed there, not caring about the cold seeping into my skin, making the ache inside of me just that much worse.

Eventually, I heard foot-steps. Glancing up with bleary, unfocused eyes, I saw McGonagall and I shuffled to my feet wearily.

“Sorry, I'm in your way. I'll just...” I trailed off, mind too haggered to complete a sentence correctly.

McGonagall gave me a look, before walking cautiously forward and gently laying an arm around my shoulders.

“Come along.” she said, and I obediently, mindlessly, let myself be pulled along. In the haze of my mind, where I didn't know what to think, only that my thoughts kept straying back to this damned collar, it took me a minute to notice we were in McGonagall's office.

She sat me in a chair and then left for a minute, coming back with a bowl of steaming water and a white cloth. McGonagall took one of my scraped hands and dabbed gently at the torn up skin I couldn't feel.

“Miss Vanderwik...” McGongall started uncomfortably and I was startled to find I was crying, silent tears running down my cheeks.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” I said, not knowing what to say. And then it got worse, now that I noticed my tears. The clouded my vision again as McGonagall finished wiping my knees.

I started crying in earnest now, great sobs that hurt my chest.

I was an outcast again, bound by a collar because I didn't want to be torn from my friends. People knew what I was, and that never boded well for me.

Distantly, I was aware of McGonagall get up but soon there was a new presence by my side and I glanced up from my knees that I had shoved my splotchy face into to see Harry, eyes suspiciously bright behind his glasses. At his worried expression, I started crying even harder, clutching onto him for any sort of grounding he could give me.

“It's okay, Ariel.” he murmured to me in soft tones, “We'll make it okay. I promise.”

Harry stayed sitting next to me on the chair for I don't know how long but by the time I finally hiccuped out my last tears, I was surprised to see it was dark outside the windows.

Apparently having an emotional break-down really passes the time.

Harry gently pulled me up- my joints stiff from one position for so long and I knew Harry had it just as bad. He grabbed onto my shoulders and made me look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, which I thought was rather a foolish question but I knew what he was getting at.

“I will be.” I responded, my voice hoarse and weak. It didn't really inspire confidence but Harry nodded nonetheless.

Looking around the office, I saw that McGonagall was no longer there but wasn't surprised I guess.

So, what do I do now? Everybody knew my secret. Nothing much to hide anymore. I'm sure I'll be kicked off the Quidditch team and would now have to stand even more stares and much more vicious comments from students.

As Harry and I headed wordlessly out of the office and towards the Gryffindor commons, I decided I'd think about it all tomorrow. My head felt like it was stuffed cotton from all the crying and I was too tired to do any sore of emotional grounding and barricading tonight.

My worst fears had been realized, and it was now time for me to live my own personal hell.

I just hoped I would survive it.


	19. The Act of Convincing

As I laid in bed that night, after walking through the dead silent Common Room, I couldn't help but notice just how jumbled I felt.

Logically, I knew that I was going to have to now go through my days with everyone knowing what I was. I knew there would be comments and stares and loss of people I liked to associate with. There would be barbs that would hurt and even more crap from the Slytherins especially.

Draco would probably be even more of a smug bastard that he already was.

I'd probably be kicked off the Quidditch team.

I wonder if Neville would still want to be my partner in Herbology.

And then what would happen when the year ended? Would Umbridge take the collar off? She'd have to, I think, but when has she ever followed the rules of the morally correct.

Despite my tumbling and chaotic mind, it was easy to slip soundlessly from bed, padding quietly to the bathroom door. A lamp was lit in the small room so I could clearly see my reflection and didn't have to be wide-eyed in the darkness.

In the soundless bathroom, except for my shallow breathing, I thought about the collar.

I felt weaker than normal, maybe back at a regular human standard. I couldn't feel any supernatural strength that I could call up. Maybe my eye-sight was less sharp, or maybe it was my imagination.

Pulling my hair back, I looked at the collar, wanting to memorize every detail of my constraints for some reason.

The leather was dark and smooth. A thick layer of leather about two inches wide was stitched to rough cotton that was covered with scratchy fabric which covered the inside. Another layer of leather was over the thick band- this strap was stitched to the golden buckle that tied it all together. The buckle gleamed dully and seemed old- there was scratches and it needed a buffing.

The runes that were etched into the buckle were unidentifiable to me- but seemed very old, possibly Nordic or something. I let my finger trail the gold, which was cool, almost icy. Without thinking, I tried to unbuckle it- pulling the strap off leather out of the buckle.

The buckle suddenly flailed white-hot, burning my fingers and I clenched my teeth against the yelp growing in my throat. Feeling a tingle of panic, I tried to remain calm.

I tried to keep down the thought of the collar tightening until I couldn't breathe. It was already constricting enough but suddenly felt unbearably tight. I wanted to yank at it until the gold broke and the leather snapped.

I hated this small inanimate object winded around my neck. I hated it with a fury that scared me.

...But I couldn't do anything about it.

So, the fury, the panic, it all died down until I didn't know what I felt. Resigned, I guess. And tired, oh so tired.

Yet, as I laid in bed again, trying not to think about the stinging in my burnt fingers, sleep didn't come. My mind which was rushing and surging yet completely blank, kept me up.

A new feeling grew in me, restlessness, pulled at my legs, my stomach, an urge that I kept stamped down. This feeling made me want to run, or fight. I needed to expend this energy somehow.

How could someone feel so much energy but be so tired at the same time?

I was tired of crying, which I'd done most of the day. I was tired of the anxiety and fear for the coming day, which was filled with the unknown reactions of the people in school. I was tired of being tired, of fearing what people said.

I didn't know what to feel... So I thought of Fred instead. He'd been there, in the Common Room, when me and Harry walked in and had obviously been waiting for our arrival. George, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were waiting for us also.

They were all quiet, sitting on the couch and chairs in front of the fire. Fred stood halfway out of one of the chairs, gaze never wavering from my puffy face.

The rest of the Common Room was dead silent, having become so the moment I'd put a step into the room. Their stares weren't concerned, like my friends'. Some were confused, others wary, but a few were completely dark.

I didn't want to sit in a room full of people who were now scared of me or hated me because of what I was. But, I didn't want to run from them, because once you started running, you could never stop.

So, I steeled myself and walked over to my friends, Harry right at my side being a comforting presence, and then sat in front of my couch, with my back to the rest of the room, blocking out their stares.

Gradually, conversation crept back into the room, but still remained slightly hushed. My friends and I were silent for a while, not knowing what to say.

I wonder if they knew I stayed here for them. I wonder if they knew, however scared I was, that I was willing to go through this whole ordeal for them.

Fred sat beside me after a moment, his presence not unlike Harry's, comforting and warm. He gripped my limp hand, the one that was unscathed from Umbridge's torture, tightly, letting me know that he was there.

Ginny started up a conversation about how unfair it was that Professor Flitwick had assigned a foot and a half of parchment for an essay on common charms for household tasks as homework. I was grateful for a topic that wasn't heavy or confusing.

It was light, and didn't speak of the cruelty (except in academic form) of people. It didn't speak about how now everything seemed upside down for some reasons. It was shallow, and I appreciated her more in that moment, than I had in a long time.

As we sat there and tried to hold a light conversation, regardless of the eyes on me from both people in the common room and my friends, somewhere in my mind a miniscule thought crept in.

It was tiny and I almost didn't want to admit it, but a small part of me was relieved that I didn't have to hide such a big part of me anymore. It wouldn't be good, people knowing about me, but it took the stress off of having to hide it.

Unfortunately, it brought the stress of people knowing, which I didn't know would be worse or not compared to having to hide all the time.

Instead of contributing to the conversation with my scratchy and hoarse voice, I instead studied Fred's hand meticulously.

He had the hands of a worker. They were tough, calloused on the pads of his fingers and palm. They were also somehow graceful for how big they were. His fingers were long but sturdy, showing an ability to be used for hard work or the most delicate of projects.

A few scars littered his knuckles along with freckles on the back of his hand, leading up his wrist to his arm. Sparse hair on the fingers, between the first and second knuckle.

His hands showed me his life, his history of playing with his brothers and sister, but also the diligence to his crafting of merchandise for George's and his store. Mindlessly, I ran a thumb over his skin, passing over freckles and muscle. Fred's skin was warm, and seemed to help melt a little bit of the ice that had grown inside me.

Fred pulled my palm upwards, smoothing a finger over the tender skin of my palm, careful not to hurt me.

He fell silent and turned to look at me, but I didn't meet his eyes. I didn't trust myself to hide any pain.

Because however much pain and worry my friends knew I held, I still felt bad when they could see it in my eyes. I felt sorry that I had caused them stress, anger, and whatever other negative emotion this day caused.

I wanted to make it better for them, I didn't want them to feel how I did, but I didn't know how to do that without lying and hiding every non-happy emotion.

There was too much reflection and thought and everything going on in my brain right now. So, I simply let my head rest on Fred's unwavering shoulder, trying to breath in his dulled scent.

That, thinking back, made me most sad for some reason.

But, I was done with being frighted and self-pitying. I could handle this.

I could.

So by the time I had replayed the moment, I was drowsy enough to fall asleep- though it was a light one and not particularly restful.

Yet, when I woke up, just that small amount of rest I got seemed to help.

I could face the coming day- I had my friends and hopefully some other people who didn't care if I was a werewolf or not. And while I hated to think of the actions coming to me by those who detested my kind, I knew that, with help, I could get through this, even if Umbridge did everything in her power to stop it.

Waking up was a quiet affair and it wasn't too long before I was lacing up my boots, buttoning up my shirt and pulling my hair up to get ready for the school day. The 5th year girls room was strangely quiet and Hermione gave me a nervous smile.

I gave her a sincere one back, knowing that my melancholy and self-pitying was over for now.

Let it be said that sleep is the best medicine.

...Unless you have a concussion.

So, when I had brushed my teeth and was prepared for the day, I straightened my back and pulled Hermione out of the dorm.

Just like when I had walked into the Common Room last night, the conversation died out and it did this morning also, but to a lesser degree. My chin was tilted up and I wasn't going to take shit from anybody.

While there was a few mean stares, most had settled down to neutral and I even got a few nods which was better than completely ignoring my presence. At least I knew I wasn't going to get too much hostility from my own House. And I knew it was asking too much for everyone in it to accept me but at least it mostly meant that I could expect the bulk of the ridicule from Slytherins.

I wondered how the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws would react.

Anyway, my general group of friends were waiting in a group by the door of the Common Room along with Neville and Luna. They all seemed to be giving me stares that were clinical, like they were going to assess my well-being from burning a hole in my face.

I smiled anyway and that seemed to help.

Soon enough, we were all heading downstairs for breakfast, which was a trip.

All too soon, I could hear whispers as I passed by and the collar seemed to grow hot against all the attention, or maybe it was just my face. When we finally got to the Great Hall, which now seemed to only hold memories of being outed, there was even a shrill wolf-howl from the Slytherin table that made me flinch.

A large group of the Slytherins laughed and even some of the other Houses too.

Fred pressed closer to my side, as if almost trying to shield me from the stares. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, hoping to convey to him that I was okay. Once enough people had filed in for breakfast, it offered some obscurity for me in the crowd.

Which was the only bit of peace I got from the day.

My first class Transfiguration was with McGonagall who didn't seem to tolerate any barbs at me. She was too on top of her class for whispers or paper airplanes today and seemed to glare at everyone as if daring them to do something.

That class wasn't so bad and I think I fell a little in love with McGonagall for it but the urge to give her a hug wasn't big enough to do so and I don't think she would appreciate it very much even if she was the one to defend me.

However, my next class was with Snape and the bulk of the Slytherins which took away any contentment I got from McGonagall's class.

The first thing Snape said when I walked into the room was, "Careful class, the rabid animal arrived." which elicited numerous laughs from the Slytherins. I was too anxious from having to sit literally surrounded by people who basically lived to hurt me in any way, shape, or form that I didn't spare a single glance at Snape.

Though his barb seemed to make the knot in my stomach grow tighter but it also steeled my resolve to not let anyone get to me.

 _They're just words, Ariel._  I told myself fiercely. With a deep breath to steady myself, I walked over to my seat beside Draco and sat down, not paying him one bit of attention even though my fist ached to break his nose again. It did however, bring my spirits up a little to see that Bulstrode's face was blue and black making her look like she had two black eyes. Her nose was also crooked a bit now and I had to clamp down hard on the spiral of satisfaction that burst into my stomach to hide a smile.

After we all got settled and the snickers from the Slytherins died down, Snape started the lesson. I can't say I wasn't surprised to find that it was the wolfs bane potion that we were making. It elicited numerous mean laughs from the Slytherins and when I glanced over at my friends on the Gryffindor half of the room, saw my trio of friends shoot me apologetic looks.

I merely sent them a smile, kinda forced, but sincere enough that they relaxed a bit.

"The properties of this potion is to establish a docile attitude in a turned werewolf if the afflicted person takes it a week before the change. However, if made incorrectly, the potion is fatal to the monster who drinks it, in human or werewolf form." Snape said, trying for an innocent face but failing with the dark glint in his eyes.

That did not send a cold prickle down my spine as the attitude of the Slytherins in my general vicinity turned down right homicidal almost.

"You have the class period to make this potion. If done correctly it should be a sludgy grey, with silver streaks that mists. The ingredients are listed on the board and your instructions are in your Potions books. I expect near silence and if you fail to finish your potion within the allotted time, don't bother making excuses. Begin."

Since I just wanted to get this day done and over with, I quickly scribbled down the ingredients and picked up my cauldron, knowing Draco wasn't going to help but not like I would've accepted it if he had offered especially since the potion could be fatal to me.

However, as I was in the ingredients closet, I came across a small problem. There was dried bushels of monk's hood, which I felt like was a nicer name then wolfs bane, hanging on racks but the moment my fingers touched them, the plant seared my skin, feeling red hot.

I yanked my hand back and glanced at my reddened fingers in shock. Apparently if you're a werewolf, even just the touch of the plant burns you and I shuddered to think bout what if it was ingested undiluted.

So, I clamped down hard on my stomach, bracing myself for the burn and quickly snapped off a bushel and dropped it into my cauldron. My fingers stung so I pressed them against the cool metal of my cauldron and felt a small relief.

Quickly, I gathered the other ingredients up and refused to think about how I had ingested this stuff a few weeks back know that I knew intimately just what I had taken.

When I returned to my seat with all my supplies, the whispers from the Slytherins quieted abruptly. This was when I wished I had an iPod so I could stuff my earphones in and block out all the sounds but alas, electronics and magic hardly work well together.

But no, I was forced to sit there and listen as everyone quipped out little barbs and insults that were severely testing my patience. It took all my self-restraint to tune them out until all I focused on was the white-noise in my ears.

Luckily, the potion was fairly easy to make when I finally tuned out the Slytherins. It mostly involving cutting and crushing ingredients while a cauldron full of wine simmered. However, once I got to the step when I needed to add the wolfs bane, I wavered.

The potion required me to finely chop and mince the dried sprigs before crushing them into a powder with the mortar and pestle. The mortar and pestle part wouldn't be painful for me but for me to chop and mince the plant, I had to hold them down and ugh, this was going to suck.

Burns, to me, was one of the worst type of injuries. With a scratch or cut or something, there was a sting yes, but burns were a hot sting that stabbed sharply into you and I just hated them.

With my hate of burns in mind, I grabbed my silver knife for potions and quickly transferred the bushel of wolfs bane onto the cutting board I was using, clenching my teeth to hold in the hiss of pain that wanted to escape.

I tried to comfort myself with the fact that the pain of the change was way worse than this but nonetheless I wasn't exactly excited to burn most of my right hand.

Draco, even though I was ignoring him, seemed very attuned to my reaction before a knowing smile formed on his lips, completing the "I look like an utter douche-nossel" face.

He had noticed that the wolfs bane burned my skin which I incited a huge sense of foreboding in me. I  _knew_  it was going to cause me problems in the future.

Anyway, I couldn't deal with him now, I had to finish this potion even though I knew there was at least a 70% chance that Snape was going to drop my sample anyway.

So, I braced myself and then quickly pressed my right fingers down on the sprigs, bunching them together and down. Instantly, pain radiated from my fingers as the plant seared my skin but I just gritted my teeth and did the quickest chopping of plants I've ever done. Mincing the pieces was less painful with only small sparks of pain when I accidentally touched the plant and soon I was able to scrape the minced chunks of the stupid plant into the pestle to be ground.

After I'd gotten it all in there, I took inventory of my hands. My left was mostly unharmed with only small blots of pink skin. My right however was definitely more damaged. The fingers were bright pink, bordering on red, which throbbed painfully.

I wasn't sure blisters were going to form but it was close thing and I felt a prickle of irritation that my gloves for herbology were too big and clumsy for me to have used them. Irrational to be angry at an inanimate pair of gloves but I felt that recent events granted me pardon from foolish reactions.

Anyway, with the wolfs bane ground up and carefully stirred into the cauldron, I took stock of the time left, which was just a little over ten minutes. Enough time for the potion to simmer to completion.

Which left me with the awkward "What-do-I-do-now?" problem considering I was surrounded by hostile people. I settled with cleaning my potions equipment meticulously.

I wiped down my silver knife, rinsed my mortar and pestle (taking care not to touch the stupid left-over powder), washed my cutting-board, and carefully closed up my vial and scales container since those particular pieces were fragile.

It's worth mentioning that the whole class session, the Slytherins had never stopped paying attention to my presence and Draco's stupid smirk had never left his face. The constant attention left an itch under my skin and I felt like a bug under a microscope, which did not sit well with me.

Comments were fine with me- people weren't exactly creative with them, but what I found out was really the problem with today was the ever-present eyes. I can handle being the center of attention, but then there's the  _center of attention_  and I wasn't exactly comfortable with that one.

The cleaning, despite my best efforts, did not take ten minutes so I sat all packed up except for the cauldron and test vial. So I sat waiting.

Which felt like what I had been doing the whole day, waiting for  _something_  I guess.

I eventually survived Potions and Charms, which almost as good as Transfiguration. Unfortunately that left Defense Against the Dark Arts. I took a moment, a few minutes before class started to get a breather, knowing I'd be facing Umbridge for the next hour and a half.

 _She's not scary_ , I reminded myself.  _You're not afraid of her._

She wasn't going to get the better of me again. I was going to sit quietly in her class, staring straight ahead, and continue to do so until the bell rang and I was free for another day.

So when class started, I felt moderately prepared and did my best to ignore the paranoia that was making the collar seemed tighter.

Seems like I was ignoring a lot of things today, but then again, that did seem to be my go-to for fixing problems. Ignoring them, hoping that they go away.

Yet, they never seemed to...

Anyway, class with Umbridge. Normally, in a word, awful. Today, excruciating.

Awesome.

Her gaze was piercing and lingered on the collar way more than I was comfortable with. I thought Draco had been a smug asshole but Umbridge had almost palatable waves of smugness coming off of her. The class, while normally pretty quiet, was even more so today, as if every one was waiting for another fight or confrontation.

But I still kept my head down, staring resolutely at my desk, memorizing the wood grains in it. It was hard to keep my shoulders from rising up somewhere near my ears, but I kept them loose for the most part.

The minutes ticked by slower than usual, I'm telling you. Fate was wanting me to go crazy.

… Maybe I'm being a bit over-dramatic.

I still got through the class though, by the skin of my teeth, but I digress. Harry and the gang headed to the library for some homework time but I still felt a bit riled up from all the constant attention and the less-then kind stares so I decided to head for the Room of Requirement where I knew I would get some alone time.

Along the way, George appeared, thankfully being his normal chipper self.

"Hello, Ace! I would ask how your day has been but I wager I can make a pretty decent guess so I'll save you the pain of reciting it." he said, grinning.

I just laughed a bit and nodded, "You'd probably be right, and I thank for you saving me from the horrible torment."

"So, to my next question, where might you, little miss, be going in the dark, creepy, nearly empty hallways?" George smiled before linking his arm with mine and leading me forward, the way I had been originally going.

"I was gonna head to the Room of Requirement since I can't seem to get any peace today." I answered. He made a sympathetic sound.

"Well, you won't get much peace if you go there- Fred's working on shop-stuff." he said, "Sorry to take your sanctuary."

I was a bit let-down that I couldn't be alone but hanging out with Fred right now would be the second best thing. "That's okay. I guess I can hang out with him for a while." I made a big huffing noise, like it'd actually be a problem.

But then, an actual sigh came out, one that wasn't for humor. George stopped me by putting his hand on my shoulder, making me look at him.

"Wanna talk about it?" George asked quietly.

I hesitated for a moment, but knew that talking might help.

"I'm tense from all the attention today. Hogwarts, when I first came here was amazing- I got friends, became happy... But now, I can't be alone in my own head and there's too much attention for me to be comfortable anymore.

"Plus, there's Umbridge and Draco and this damned collar and..." I sighed again, "I stayed because of your guys, got the collar so I could stay with you guys but there's still just a part of me that hates that Umbridge ruined what made me so happy. That part of me wants to leave." I stopped, not knowing how else to articulate my thoughts.

George immediately wrapped me into a hug and I gratefully sank into it. I knew from past experiences that he didn't smell like Fred but with the collar, I couldn't decipher what he smelled like and that made the hug a little less comforting.

"I understand how you could feel that way and I want you to know that we'll do everything in our power to help you and make you feel better even with Umbridge being here. Me and Fred are even staying to help out."

What?

"Huh?" I pulled back at little bit, confused. "What do you mean you're staying? You were gonna leave?"

George looked sheepish. "Uh, yeah. We'd planned to make a break for it during exams, since we have money for the shop and decided that school wasn't really necessary anymore. But Fred and I decided to stay after what happened yesterday."

Suddenly, I was angry.

"You can't do that!" I said, stepping out of his embrace rather roughly. "I'm not going to be the thing keeping you here miserable with Umbridge! You guys had this planned, you can't just not go because I got found out!"

"Yes we can. We're not going to leave you here with her. As much as we trust the rest of the group, Fred and I would rather be here so we can help you feel better too!"

"George, it'll make me feel [i]worse[/i] knowing that I'm the thing keeping you from following what you want to do! I already feel so guilty for causing so much stress on you guys- I don't want this on my conscious as well!"

I felt shaken and so horribly guilty. My stomach was in cramps and I had trouble getting a good deep breath.

Forcing myself to look George in the eyes, I saw he was staring silently at me, with a searching expression of some sort.

"Please. You guys have to go- it'd make me feel better that at least some of my friends can't be hurt by Umbridge anymore. As much I want you two here so I can sit by you guys in front of the fire and not feel so shitty, I want you to show Umbridge she can't control all of us."

My words helped straighten my spine, and raise my chin. George and Fred were leaving, even if they didn't want to.

"You guys are going. Keep whatever was planned and be ready for it. I'm going to go yell at Fred and make sure he understands that you two are leaving."

I stared at George, until his searching expression smoothed out and he nodded, something in his eyes, I couldn't identify.

Then I turned on my heel, and left him in the hallway. It didn't take long to reach the Room of Requirement, the anger that was simmering now, keeping my pace steady.

Pushing the door open, I saw Fred in the potions room the Twins had shown me when I first was shown their merchandise. Fred was focused on the boiling potion in front of him, his cloak off and his sleeves rolled up to underneath his elbows. His forehead was shiny with sweat from the heat of the fire and his hair was mussed from his fingers probably running through it in frustration.

He finally noticed me, smiling quickly, before returning his eyes to watch the potion carefully.

"Hey, Ace. How are you doing this probably horrible day?"

"You have to go." I declared, ignoring his question.

An eyebrow raised and without looking at me, he smiled again, "Tut-tut," he jokingly reprimanded, "I was here first, so I have seniority."

Frustration bubbled up again, and I swiped my hand forward, "That's not what I meant!" I almost yelled at him. Startled, Fred finally looked away from the potion, probably realizing that I wasn't in a joking mood.

Which I wasn't.

At all.

"You have to go. With George. During exams. You have to leave like you had planned. I already talked to George about it and-"

"Whoa, wait a minute. George told you about us not leaving?" Fred cut me off, eyebrows drawing down in confusion.

"Yes!" I said, eyes narrowing. "You guys had it planned to leave during exams but then decided to stay after Draco told Umbridge about me. And I'm here saying, no, you guys have to go."

"No," Fred responded, "We don't actually." He straightened up from over the potion and turned to face me, obviously knowing this was going to turn into an argument.

"Yes, you do." I argued. "I refuse to keep you here, miserable, just so you can get me to laugh a few more time than I would without you."

That was a blatant lie. Fred and George almost always made me laugh hardest and most frequently. I loved all my friends but when it came to helping me laugh and not stick in my head so much, the Twins were the best at it.

Fred looked almost angry now. "We're staying to help you feel better- we're staying to help protect you. Draco and Umbridge and the rest of them are hostile and could try to hurt you." Why was he being calm about this.

"Fred, you guys not leaving would hurt me. I already told George I feel guilty- me being the reason for you staying would probably leave me feeling so guilty I'd throw up." I stalked towards him, stopping arms reach away.

"I know you want to stay and help, but knowing that you guys can't be hurt by Umbridge would make me feel better than I could say."

Looking at him, I could tell Fred was gearing up to argue more. I didn't know how to explain to him that I wanted them to be happy out of Hogwarts and starting their shop.  _That_ would make me happy. Knowing they're finally out of Umbridge's clutches, even though I knew I would still be here.

I'd rather have them happy out with a shop of their dreams, then stuck here just because they wanted to make me feel better.

I didn't know how to explain it- how to form the words that would convince Fred that I meant it, that I'd be happier with them gone, however awful that sounds.

Since no words were forthcoming, I did the only thing I could think of.

I kissed Fred with every ounce of feeling I had in my body at the moment. My frustration at him for not listening. My anxiety and my tiredness from the day bled over too.

It didn't take much effort to plaster myself to the front of his unresponsive body, to wrap my arms around his neck and stretch on my tip-toes.

And after a moment, a heart-beat where my frustration almost sparked into fear of him not returning the kiss, Fred jerked back into action.

His arms, wrapped around my back, pressing me tighter against him. His head tilted to the side, deepening the angle of our kiss while he leaned forward and put more power into it.

Fred's skin was almost feverishly hot from the heat of the fire and it erupted goose-bumps across my moderately chilled skin.

I refused to let him take over the kiss however, tightening my arms around his neck so I could hold it in place. His hands moved from around me, slipping under my button-up shirt, to the bare skin of my hips.

We kept trying to pull each other impossibly closer, making sure there was no empty space between us as we kissed.

His thumb rubbed up my hip-bone and startled I bit Fred's lip. He shuddered violently and his hands were suddenly red-hot clamps on my hips.

Things, however, were stopped short (probably a good thing) when I went to weave my hands into his hair, forgetting about my singed fingers.

I hissed out in pain and Fred immediately froze, hands going lax. We were both breathing hard and it was hard to think straight when Fred's eyes were dark, his cheeks a ruddy color, and his lips looked bee-stung.

It took me a moment to remember that my fingers were burnt and that's why my fingers had hurt trying to weave into his hair. I brought my right arm down from around his shoulders to inspect them.

Still red, like before, but no worse for the wear. Fred made a distressed sound and bent to press a careful kiss to the tip of my ring-finger.

"Apparently, touching wolfs bane when you're a werewolf can burn you." I said softly, explaining why they were burnt.

He looked up from my fingers, expression concerned, before leaning down gently, brushing a soft kiss to my lips. It was nothing like the fire before, but just a mere press of lips against mine that didn't speak of anything but comfort.

I sighed, and dropped my head to his neck, resting my cheekbone against hi pulse-point.

"Fred," I started into his neck, "please. I want you guys to go and start your shop and make little kids laugh with your pranks. School is over in a few months anyway and I'll have the Golden Trio and your sister and maybe others to have my back. If it'll make you feel better, I'll send you weekly letters saying I'm still alive and that I miss you two.

"But just please. You guys _have_  to go." My right arm returned to around his shoulders so I could hug him tightly, willing him to understand. Fred just huffed and hugged me back, which I counted as a small victory.

"Bi-weekly letters and expect responses from both me and George. I also want the others to confirm that you're not hexed into the hospital wing or something."

I hid my relieved grin in his shoulder, but knew he noticed.

"Thank you."

"No problem, just..." he pulled me back from the hug, looking straight at me, unwavering. "Be careful." he finally said.

Nodding, I promised.

"I will."


End file.
